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ENTRANCE TO PENN'S CAVE 



Penn 's Grandest Cavern 

The History, Legends and 
Description of Penns Cave 
In Centre County, Pennsylvania 

( Compiled by HENR Y wkSnOEMA KER) 



There is <i cave 
All overtp'owii with trailing, odorous plants, 

Which curtain oat the day with leaves and Jiower.i, 
And paved iviih veined emerald, and a fountain 
Leaps in the midst with an awakening sound; 
From its curved roof, the mount lin' s fmzen tears, 
Like snow or silver, or long, diamond spires, 
Hang downward, raining forth a doubtful light; 
And there is heard the ever-moving air. 

Whispering without from tree to tree, and birds 

And bees; and all around are mossy seats, 

And the rough walls are clothed ivith long, soft grass. 

— Prometheun Unbaund 



{THIRD EDITION— Illustrated) 



Published by the 

ALTOONA TRIBUNE CO.. Altoona, Pa. 

Nineteen- Nineteen 

COPYRIGHTED All Rights Reserrod 



If SI 



e 



. ^d ' ^ 



o 



INDEX OF CHAPTERS 



Pages 

I. Preface and Introduction 7 — 10 

11. Description 11 ig 

III. History 19 9; 

IV. The Legend of Penn's Cave 28 — 31 

\^ Cave Panthers ?)2 39 

VI. The Little Postmistress 10 — 57 

VI I. Gov. Ciirtin's Visit .58 62 

VIII. The Fountain of Youth 63 73 

IX. Riding His Pony 74 78 

X. Nita-nee 79 93 

XI. A Visit to Howe's Cave, X. Y., 1919. .94 — 96 



I. PREFACE 

PENN'S CAVE needs more panegyrics and panegy- 
rists. Beautiful natural curiosity that it is, it 
is hidden away among rolling hills and tower- 
ing mountains, almost like "a flower to blush unseen". 
The writer of these lines, having visited many of the 
principal caves in the United States and in foreign 
countries, and comparing them with Penn's Cave, has 
come to the conclusion that something adequate should 
be written concerning the great Central Pennsylvania 
cavern. Though not having the spare time to go into 
the subject in detail, he has compiled the following 
chapters in the hope of filling the want until the 
proper historian can take up the subject, using the 
contents of this book as a foimdation for more solid 
research and exposition. But this is sometimes a 
difficult task, as history loves to follow beaten paths. 
After much painstaking research and a world of care, 
the writer prepared the first complete history of the 
Pine Creek, or Fort Horn Declaration of Independ- 
ence. It was a subject glossed over by most Penn- 
sylvania historians, even by the immortal Meginness. 
A week or so ago in the ''Romances of Pennsylvania 
History" series in a leading Philadelphia newspaper 
the old story was republished, just as it was given, 
fragmentary and imperfect in every old history. 
Either the compiler of the article disregarded a newer 
and more complete version, or did not see it, or else 
history is too dogmatic to leave its channels In the 



case of Penn's Cave, its amplified story appears in 
these pages for the first time; it cuts out the channel, 
as it were. Consequently the writer feels an added 
responsibility, for here is a lack of the minuteness so 
characteristic of some other specimens of cave lit- 
terature, notably Hovey's works. But in lieu of other 
treatises, these pages are presented to the public 
in the hope that they may answ^er a few of the ques- 
tions being asked about the Cave, and to preserve the 
folk-lore clustered about it. To the writer these 
pages have a deep import, as Penn's Cave determined 
his course to collect and preserve, if possible, the 
dying legends and folk-tales of the Pennsylvania 
Mountains. Twenty-two years ago this month, as a 
little red-headed boy, he made the acquaintance of 
an aged vSeneca Indian, Isaac Steele, who was visit- 
ing familiar scenes in the West Branch and Bald 
Eagle Valleys. The venerable man sat on the trunk 
of a felled Indian apple tree at the corner of the 
old Quiggle orchard, at McElhattan, (Clinton County), 
and recounted the "Legend of Penn's Cave.'' For 
eleven years it tossed about in the writer's mind, until 
a time came when he could contain it no longer, so he 
wrote it down. It was first published in the "Centre 
Reporter", at Centre Hall, (Centre County), and 
became the nucleus of other legends, which came out 
in book form in 1903, under the title of "Wild Life 
in Central Pennsylvania". Later editions of this book 
were published under the name of "Pennsylvania 
Mountain Stories", the last in 1911. And from that 
time on, when the writer had a little leisure, a little 
chance to travel, he has been collecting and "writing 

8 



down" more Pennsylvania legends. Therefore, it is 
with more than the usual heartbeats that he is giving 
forth his latest brochure on "Penn's Grandest 
Cavern". The wn-iter wishes to extend his hearty 
thanks to Mr. R. P. Campbell, one of the proprietors 
of the Cave, for valuable assistance rendered in the 
preparation of this book, and to Mr. S. W. Smith, 
editor of the ''Centre Reporter", for furnishing some 
of the most interesting illustrations. 

Henry W. Shoemaker. 
Altoona Tri])une Office, Sept. 28, 19U. 




INTRODUCTION TO THIRD EDITION 



THE demand for another edition of this little 
brochure on wonderful Penn's Cave is not so 
much a compliment to the book, as to the 
growing popularity and efficient management of the 
Cavern. The inevitable destruction of Naginey Cave 
by quarriers, and the artificial illumination of other 
Pennsvlvania caverns, has made Penn's Cave in a 
class by itself. This, together with the facility 
of visiting it Ijy automobile, has made it the 
mecca for all Pennsylvania travelers "Meet me 
at the Cave" is a slogan famihar to all dwellers 
in "Eldorado Found'', as Central Pennsylvania is 
sometimes called. The register maintained at 
the Cave office contains many noted names, and 
one must argue himself unknown not to be recorded 
upon its pages. The writer considers himself priv- 
ileged to have figured as the humble chronicler of 
this great natural wonder of his beloved State. But 
even better days are ahead. More and more people 
will visit Penn's Cave, until it will rank as one of 
the best-known wonders of the American Continent. 
Imperfect as the following pages are, the compiler 
thanks readers, past, present and future, for their 
consideration of his efforts. 

H. W. S. 
July 15, 1!»P). 



10 



IL DESCRIPTION 



THOUGH perhaps lacking in the exquisite stalac- 
tite formations of the Crystal Cave at Virg-ins- 
ville, or the huge "dragon" stalagmite at 
Dreibelbis Cave, or the "Red Panther's Funeral Pyre" 
stalagmite in the Caves of Coburn, or the symmetry 
of the bush-hammered walls of the Naginey Cave, 
Penn's Cave excels all other Pennsylvania caverns by 
the vastness of its dimensions, its water trip, its 
diversity of formations. While other caves in the 
Commonwealth rely on one feature of commanding 
interest, Penn's Cave has first-class attractions by the 
score. It contains so much that is of interest that it 
always gives fresh and absorbing pleasure, even to 
persons who have visited it a dozen times — like the 
writer of this article. First of all, let it be said that 
the entrance is the most imposing of any cave in the 
United States — maybe in the world. The flight of 
steps leading down to the vast limestone arch with the 
depth of green water beneath it is something never to 
be forgotten. The boat ride, a quarter of a mile or 
more, each way, is finer by far than the Echo River, 
the Styx or Lethe in Mamm^oth Cave in Kentucky, 
or the Lake in Cahow Cave, or the boat ride in Smug- 
glers' Cave in Bermuda, where Annette Kellerman 
posed for the great moving picture play, "Neptune's 
Daughter". The mysterious abruptness with which 
Penn's Cave ends adds greatly to its charm. The 

11 



12 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



writer has crawled far into the labyrinths beyond the 
ending of the "watery" part, been confused by the 
multiplicity of passages, been lulled by the musical 
echoes of countless subterranean waterfalls. The 
Cave has three, possibly four or five, entrances. The 
main entrance, already referred to, is like the door- 
way to the Labyrinth of the Minotaur in Auguste 
Gendron's famous painting, the entrance from the old 
orchard into the dry cave, and another which can be 
noticed by the ray of light which filters into one of 
the hidden chambers at the rear of ''watery cave" 
are curiously picturesque. Other cork-screw or 
spiral apertures are observable in the ceilings at cer- 
tain parts of the cavern, but as they admit no light, 
they cannot be definitely called "entrances". In some 
places the water attains a depth of forty feet, and is 
of a peculiar transparent greenish color. Trout and 
other fish find their way into the Cave, but do not 
multiply, as there is no food of importance inside, 
yet the earlier explorers reported that it was fairly 
alive with trout. Daniel Ott, of Selinsgrove, who died 
recently, aged 90 years, has stated that before the 
dams were built in the Susquehanna River shad were 
taken in Penn's Cave. In the coldest part of winter 
screech owls take refuge in the cavern. Small cray- 
fish, numerous insects, including white katydids, rats, 
mice and bats, still inhabit it in considerable numbers. 
Unfortunately, the bats do not hibernate in as great 
quantity as formerly. The noises, the acetylene 
lights, the inquisitive tourists, have driven these shy 



PENN'3> GRANDEST CAVERN 18 



creatures to unknown hiding places, though their 
desertion is not as complete as at the charming 
Crystal Cave, in Berks County, where the proprietor 
injudiciously installed a system of electric lighting. 
x\t dusk in summer, beginning in May, numbers of 
bats can be seen flitting about near the mouth of the 
Cave and on the green before the hojtel, chasing insects. 
Thanks to their tireless elYorts, there is an almost 
entire absence of mosquitoes in the vicinity of Penn's 
Cave. No wonder Texas has put a perpetual closed 
season on our little satan-winged friends. It is said 
that, their work done, the bats return to the Cave 
through the small opening in the orchard, preferring 
it to the larger, or main entrance. According to the 
stories told by the first explorers the ''Dry'' Cave was 
foVmerly much dr3^er than at present. In the old days 
panthers, red bears, bob cats, foxes, as well as smaller 
mammals, made it a headquarters ; the larger beasts 
fought for its possession. Indians sometimes camped 
in the Dry Cave in very cold winters. They would 
find it uncomfortably wet now. The quality of the 
limestone composing the walls of the Cave is very 
unusual. It shades from whites to delicate greys, into 
rich pinks and reds. It is the most gorgeously colored 
cavern in the Eastern States. Itahans might almost 
call it "the American Capri''. In some parts the deli- 
cacy of the grey-green tones reminds one of the 
famous French "art nouveau" introduced about the 
time of the Paris Exposition in 15)00. En other places 
the reds are reminiscent of the richness of the best in 



14 PBNN'S ORANDBST CiAVERN 

Indian art. This is best seen in the curious, natural 
mural painting called "Indian Riding Pony", which is 
shown to visitors on the "return trip" in the Cave. It 
is a "sumac" red which holds the attention just as the 
primitive artists evidently sought, knowing that the 
impressions must be given by only one color, f The 
stalactites are not as numerous as in many caves, not- 
ably Luray, the Endless Caverns near Newmarket, 
Va., or the Wyandot Cave on the Rothrock estate in 
Southern Indiana. Countless numbers were broken 
off during the dark days when there was no absolute 
rule in the Cave, when visitors did pretty much as 
they pleased. The early explorers spoke enthusiasti- 
cally of the stalactites, so we must blame the genera- 
tion of vandals if our Cave is exceeded in this respect 
by other American caverns. Some of the curious 
stalactite forms, like "The Lancaster County Tobacco 
Barn" and "The Lobster's Claw" are not to be 
excelled anywhere. But there are few transparent 
pendants, loveliest of all stalactites. The stalagmite 
forms are hner and nrore numerous than the stalac- 
tites, at least in their present-day condition. They rep- 
resent a wide diversity of forms, some of them like 
the "Giant Pillars" being of imjpressive proportions, 
while others like. the "Prairie Dogs" are quaint and 
amusing in the extreme. As a "freak" formation the 
"Ruffles, Scalloped" is well worth a visit. There are 
several places where the formations emit musical 
sounds upon being struck. One great charm of Penn's 

tSee Chapter IX. 




THE GARDEN OF THE GODS 



PENN'9 GRANDEST CAVERN 15 

Cave is that the visitor never leaves disappointed, as 
is the case with many caves. The imagination, it 
would seem, cannot picture anything quite like it. 
Many persons imagine Niagara Falls to be grander 
sight than it seems to them on iirst glimpse, but on 
subsequent visits it appears to grow to the propor- 
tions of the preconceived mental image. Penn's Cave 
comes upon the eye very different from any prior con- 
ception ; any subsequent visits make it seem lovelier, 
more weird, grander. Its situation in a picturesque 
region adds greatly to its attractiveness. Sixteen 
years ago, when the writer first visited the cave, there 
was much original timber, white pine, white oak, hem- 
lock, standing in the ravines adjacent to the property. 
Now, alas, much of this is gone, but there is still a 
quaint old-world, out-of-time atmosphere connected 
with the region. At night to lie on the hillside by the 
creek that runs from the covern, as the writer has 
done, and watch the Brush Mountain above so immov- 
able and vast, frowning like a tall sentinel upon the 
Cave property, while down in somte sink a whippoor- 
will is improvising, or a fox barking on a distant 
"bench", is a rare treat to an impressionable soul 
which seeks the infinite. The Cave is best visited at 
dusk or after night-fall, if the full effect of the eerie 
surroundings is desired. The formations appear 
huger, the distances greater, the shadows more 
impenetrable, after darkness outside. Then to emerge 
again into the seemingly excessively warm air. into 
darkness, and hear a distant kildeer's mournful note 



16 PBNN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



or to see a bat flit mechanically over one's head, are 
experiences in keeping with one's bewitched mental 
attitude. The glory of the autumn coloring in the 
Cave woods, or on the adjoining farm, is very won- 
derful. Fall is the best time of the year to visit the 
great natural wonder. There are mlany hardwoods 
still standing, the hickories in particular are radiantly 
yellow in September and October. Blue jays, newly 
arrived from the north, cry out buoyantly. In May- 
time the orchard and fields about the Cave are a mass 
of white and pink sweet-scented blooms. Bird songs 
in the rising inflexion are everywhere. The very 
earth smells sweet ; world hopes come into our breasts. 
But there is a tang in the air in Autumn ; it comes 
from the drying leaves, the cracking nut burrs, the 
hardening earth, that gives us a stronger grip on life. 
Nature is our friend in May-time, we understand her 
mood, she seems helping us. In the Autumn she 
appears to be drawing away, becoming more distant, 
forgetful of us. We reverence her as more all-pow- 
erful; we feel more self-rehant. Our imaginations 
for these reasons are soothed in Spring, keenly awak- 
ened in the Fall. Apart from Nature's grandeur, the 
wonders of the Cave formation hold us. more "in chill 
October". How great a joy if one could visit the 
Cave on Hallowe'en! Care should be taken to have 
every wonderful formation pointed out. They are 
well-named, not one can we afford to miss. It is only 
after seeing them that a correct estimate can be 
formed of Penn's Cave, its position in relation to 



PENNIS GRANDEST CAVEIRN 17 



Other caverns. We believe that the discerning 
observer is bound to give it a very high place. 
Although the lamented Rev. Horace C. Hovey omitted 
mentioning it in his classic work, ''Celebrated American 
Caverns", published in 1882, it is not too late to record 
Penn's Cave in the "underground hall of fame". 
Gradually its popularity is growing, its distinctive 
marvels are showing out more boldly. Like a genius 
half understood, modest and retiring, it is coming to 
its own. The height of the roof in the highest part is 
55 feet ; the water at its greatest depth 35 feet, at time 
of high water. The temperature of the Cave, all the 
year 'round, is 50 degrees, and the Cave property is 
situated at an altitude of 1,200 feet above sea level. 
The Cave received its name because John Penn's 
Creek, rightly named the Karoondinha, rises in it. 
Penn's Creek was named after John Penn (1729- 
1795), grandson of the founder of Pennsylvania, Cap- 
tain James Potter having given it this appellation in 
January, 1764. It is stated that when the view of the 
expansive plains of Penn's Valley first burst upon his 
vision from the mountain above the present town of 
Centre Hall he exclaimed : "I have discovered an 
empire!" A legend of one of John Penn's visits to 
Central Pennsylvania will be found in the compiler's 
''More Pennsylvania Mountain Stories", Reading, 
1912, in the chapter entitled "Marsh Marigold". For 



18 



PENN'S GiRANDEiSl CAVERN 



the benefit of the intending visitors, below is appended 
a list of the leading named formations, 36 in all, but 
there are hundreds of others which await their "great 
American identifiers", that are full of strangeness, 
full of charm, tonics for the imagination. 



SEEN AS YOU ENTER CAVE. SEEN AS YOU RETURN. 



1 The Eagle's Wings. 

2 The Lobster's Claw. 

3 Statue of Liberty. 

4 A BuncVi of Bananas. 

5 Garden of Gods. 

6 The Lace Curtain. 

7 The Strait of Gibraltar. 

8 Petrified Lion. 

9 Coral Growths. 

10 The Chimes. 

11 Drop Curtain. 

12 Prairie Dogs. 

13 Snow Slides. 

14 Pittsburgh Snow Drift. 

15 Niagara Falls (Canadian 

and American Sides). 

16 Trout Colored Stalactite. 

17 Turtle Shell. 

18 Lancaster County Tobacco 

Barn. 

19 Hindoo Idols. 

20 Giant Pillars. 



1 Water Falls With Light- 

house Above. 

2 The Ruffles, Scalloped. 

3 North Pole Scene. 

4 Indian Riding Pony. 

5 Leopard Skins. 

6 The Billiken. 

7 Lebanon Bologna. 

8 Boy Driving Cow Across 

Suspension Bridge. 



Indian Woman Carryinc) 
Paapoose. 

Egyptian Woman Carrying 
Jug of Water. 



Dove Wing. 

12 Angel Wings. 

13 Silver Rock. 

14 Shadow Statue of Liberty. 

15 Elephant's Head. 



III. HISTORY 

(From the Altoona Tribune) 



IT is not genertilly known that the namesakes, or 
perhaps distant relatives of America's greatest 
poet, Edgar Allan Poe, were the first white men 
to own Penn's Cave, in Centre County. These hardy 
frontiersmen, who fought the Indians in the moun- 
tains of Maryland and Pennsylvania, took up many 
tracts of land in the Pennsylvania mountains and be- 
came citizens of prominence. The original name was 
spelled Poh, but became altered like so many other of 
the old-time names, into its present form. The Penn's 
Cave farm, or tract of land, as it was known in the 
early days, was surveyed in pursuance of two warrants 
granted to James Poh or Poe dated January 5 and 
November 3, 17 73. A patent for these lands was issued 
by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to James Poe, 
dated April 9, 1789. James Poe only lived on the 
Penn's Cave farm a short time, spending most of his 
days at his homestead in the valley bearing his name 
in the southern part of Centre County. But he built a 
substantial log house near the large spring where the 
Karoondinha emerges from the cave, which was the 
first improvement in that part of the valley. James 
Poe at his death left the Cave farm to his daughter, 
Susanna M. Poe, and his will is duly recorded in the 
records of Franklin County, Pennsylvania, Centre 
County not yet having come into existence. The young 
heiress became the wife of Samuel Vantries, and the 

19 



20 PBNN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



Penn's Cave farm took the name of the "Vantries 
Place", by which name it was known for many years. 
Samuel Vantries lived formerly near what is now 
Linden Hall, as the family name is still well known 
in that locaHty. Dr. James \^antries, of Bellefonte, is a 
direct descendant of Samuel X'antries and James Poe. 
There is no record that Edgar Allan Poe, during his 
famous visit to Central Pennsylvania in 1838, ever paid 
a visit to his namesakes at Penn's Cave. Prior to the 
time of this trip he was residing in Philadelphia, and 
was on the staff of the ''Gentlemen's Magazine". He 
was in need' of money, being heavily in debt, and 
thought that doubtless his wealthy namesakes in the 
mountains would help him. He visited Poe Valley, 
and later crossed the Seven Mountains to Milroy and 
Lewistown, from which latter town he returned to 
Philadelphia. He was much impressed with the large 
cave on the Naginey farm near Milroy, and at the 
Mammoth Spring on the Alexander farm, not far 
from Reedsville. Samuel Vantries rented the Penn's 
Cave farm about 1855, as Jacob Harshbarger was 
living there at that time. . Mr. Harshbarger used to 
say that the first person to enter the cave was Rev. 
James Martin, a Presbyterian preacher, who died 
June 20, 1T95, and is buried on the Musser farm, 
near Penn Hall. Rev. Martin was a native of Ireland, 
an honor graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, and 
pastor of the earliest Presbyterian congregation in 
Penn's Valley. The old gentleman, it is said, caught 
a cold in the cave, from which he never fully recov- 



PENNIS GHANDEST CAVERN 21 



ered. Previous to Rev. Martin's adventure, Indians 
of various tribes had frequented it, as numerous 
souvenirs, like arrow-heads, pottery and l)eads, have 
been taken out of it. Malachi Boyer, a young pioneer 
from Lancaster County, was drowned in the cave 
about 17-19. He had run away with Nita-nee, the 
daughter of a powerful chief, Okocho, was captured 
and paid the death penalty.* Beginning with 1845, 
and continuing to 1860, people frequently went down 
into the dry cave through the small entrance in the old 
orchard. No guides accompanied the visitors, how- 
ever, and on an occasion a pair of saddle horses were 
found tied to the orchard fence at dusk one evening, 
which bore the marks of having been tied there for 
some time. A search was made in the dry cave and a 
young man and his sweetheart were found close by the 
water. Their lights had failed them and they were 
afraid to move, and they lost all idea as to wdiich way 
to get out. So they decided to wait and trust to the 
presence of the horses to bring relief. f About 1860 
a young Quaker named Isaac Paxton, who had resided 
in Chester County, became a teacher at the public 
school in Spring Mills. He was a nature lover and 
fond of taking long tramps through the hills and val- 
leys to study the birds and flowers, trees and geologi- 
cal formations. Accompanied by his chum, Albert 
Woods, a successful agriculturist residing at Spring 
Mills, he walked to Penn's Cave and entered the dry 



*See Chapter IV. 
tSee Chapter VI. 



22 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



caA^e. The voung men became convinced that they 
saw a light out in the direction of the water-course 
entrance. Previous to this time there vv*is no knowl- 
edge of the water in the ''dry" cave being the same 
stream that rises at the main entrance of the cave, nor 
that the two parts of the cave led into one another 
Paxton and Wood's came out of the dry cave, went 
down to the saw mill, which stood close to where the 
water emerges from the cavern, and from which 
water power it was run, and secured enough lumber 
to build a raft. They carried this lumber to the mnin, 
or present, entrance of the cave, nailed it together, 
and, with the aid of a pine torch and a long pole, 
traversed the water-course in Penn's Cave for the first 
time. They found that the water-way led info the 
dry cave, unearthed the skeletons of two huge 
panthers, and made other interesting discoveries. t^ 
Some of the heavy sawed logs now floating at the far 
end of the cave are supposed to be remnants of the 
first raft. Presbyterian preachers must have a fond- 
'ness for visiting caves, as a few days after Pev. /. E. 
Long, the Presbyterian pastor of the Valley. w!iOse 
place of residence was at Hublersburg, in Nittany 
Valley, came over and, hearing of the adventure of 
Messrs. Paxton and Woods, persuaded them to repeat 
the trip, so that he might accompany them. So the 
three gentlemen returned to the cave, reconstructed 
the raft into a small boat and traversed the gloomy 
water-way. The news spread rapidly, and as the 



tSes Chapter V. 



PBNN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 23 

Fourth of July was approachin.s:, a small picnic of 
meni!bers of "old-line" families was gotten up to spend 
the holiday at the cave and make use of the boat. 
Among those in the party were two aged ladies, Mrs. 
Margaret Foster and Miss Sarah Vanvalzah. Because 
of their venerable age the compliment was paid them 
of having the boat named for them, the "Sarah-Mar- 
garet". Among those in the merry party were Miss 
Mary Wilson, Miss Lizzie Cook, Miss Mary Duncan, 
Miss Mary Woods, Miss Ada Vanvalzah, Mrs. Robert 
Duncan, John Foster, John Wilson, Frank Vanvalzah, 
Harry Vanvalzah, Dr. John Woods, Robert Duncan 
and Miss Mary Buchanan. Miss Ada Vanvalzah 
later became the wife of Col. John A. Churchill, of St. 
Louis, a distinguished officer in the United States 
Army. Dr. John Woods practiced the profession of 
medicine at Boalsburg, Centre County, for many 
years. Miss Mary Woods, who is now living at 
Spring Mills, furnished the list of names of the happy 
party, rnost of whom are now enjoying their reward. 
Miss Ada Vanvalzah and Miss Mary Woods were the 
first ladies to enter the boat and go through the cave. 
All during the day one load would be rowed back as 
far as the dry cave in the rear of the cavern and left 
to explore the dry rooms while the boat returned for 
another load. For years following this picnic the 
country became so excited over the Civil War that 
little interest was taken in the cave until about 18C0, 
when another picnic party visited the picturesque spot. 
This time the boat was hauled on a wagon from 



24 PBNN'S GRANDEST OAVERN 

Beaver Dants, below Spring Mills, which in those days 
was a favorite spot for canoeists and boatmen gen- 
erally. No signs were found of the old boat, the 
"Sarah-Margaret." Previous to the last picnic, in 
1868, Samuel Vantries sold the farm to George Long, 
who, lived in the old farmhouse and used the water 
from the "spring", which in reality is the overflow 
from the cave. Mr. Long was a man of serious 
nature and objected strongly to pleasure-seekers enter- 
ing the cave. Furthermore, he did not want people 
to contaminate what he now realized was his water 
supply. During his regime few people visited the 
cave. Upon his death, in 1884, the property passed 
into the hands of his tw^o sons, Jesse and Samuel. 
These two young men had traveled extensively and 
realized the financial possibilities of the cave. It was 
worth much more than the farm, in their estimation. 
In their rambles they had visited the Mammpth Cave 
of Kentucky, which they declared was in no way 
superior to their own cavern. They built a larger boat 
and began charging admission to the cave. About 
1885 they constructed the handsome building now 
known as the Penn's Cave Hotel. For a time they 
prospered, and hundreds of people visited their unique 
resort annually. In December, 1995, the farm was 
sold to John x\. Herman, of Pleasant Gap, Centre 
County. In January, 1908, the farm and cave again 
changed hands and became the property of its present 
owners, Dr. H. C. and R. P. Camipbell. Previous to 
this, for several years, owing to financial embarrass- 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 26 

ments, the Long- brothers had abandoned the hotel and 
the place was deserted. The Campbell brothers, who 
are graduates of the Pennsylvania State College, and 
young men of education and foresight, improved the 
property extensively, making it one of the most unique 
resorts in Central Pennsylvania. To use the words 
of Mr. R. P. Campbell, who is the active manager of 
the cave, "Now has come the age of the automobile, 
and the cave again has become a place of interest to 
the tourists. The number of visitors has increased 
steadily each year since we bought the place, and we 
expect 1914 to be the banner year".t Penn's Cave is 
easy of access to residents of Altoona, especially those 
owning automobiles. Twenty years ago the Naginey 
Cave in Milroy was visited by Altoonans every Sun- 
day during the summer months. On several occasions 
the Altoona P>and waked the echoes of its dismal 
recesses. Now, since the automobile has come into 
use, Penn's Cave, in Centre County, can be reached 
as easily as was the Naginey Cave in the old days. 
The best way to reach Penn's Cave by automobile 
from Altoona is to follow the main road to Tyrone, 
thence to Warrior's Mark, Pennsylvania Furnace, 
Rock Springs and State College. From State College 
it is only a short distance to the cave over first-class 
roads. Those wishing to go by train can reach vSpring 
Mills or Rising Springs Station, as it is called, on the 



tThis prophecy proved correct, as twice as many persons 
visited the cave as ever before. But all records were broken 
in July. 1916. when a veritable army of persons visited the 
cave; 1919 promises to 1)- the "1)ig-g-est" year of all! 



26 PBNN'S G^RANDHST CAVERN 

Lewisburg and Tyrone Railroad, after changing cars 
at Bellefonte. Conveyances cannot always be ob- 
tained there, so that it would probably be better to go 
by train to State College from Bellefonte. There are 
several excellent liveries there, also automobiles which 
can be hired. An admission fee, moderate when one 
considers the uniqueness of the trip by boat into the 
Stygian depths of 'he cave, is charged to all visitors. 
This helps the upkeep of the establishment. But what 
appeals mostly to tourists and automobile parties is 
the air of courtesy and politeness which pervades the 
place. Every one, from Mr. Campbell down, seems 
anxious to please, and the tired traveler will find 
nothing to ruffle his overstrained nerves. The scenery 
about the cave is m.agnificent ; in fact, there is none 
finer in Central Pennsylvania. The Brush Mountain 
comes to an abrupt end east of the cave, while to the 
south looms the high peaks of the Seven Mountains' 
chain. Penn's Cave makes an ideal trip for Altoonans 
and' gives them a chance to fully appreciate the match- 
less beauties of their native state. Filled with historic 
lore, it creates an impression never to be forgotten. 
Ex-Governor Curtain called it "Pennsylvania's great- 
est natural wonder".* Many distinguished persons 
have been entertained there, including parties of for- 
eigners, t All these traveled persons who ought to 
know have been loud in their praises of this grand 
spot. When the writer was there, in the month of 



*See Chapter VII. 

tAmong those registering- in July. 1919, wa.s Miss Dorothy 
Spag-het. of Rome. Italy. 





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PENN-'S GRANDEST CAVERN 27 

May, 1014, the new moon was shining brightly hii^h 
, above the Seven Mountains. It cast a ghostly light 
over the old orchard which surrounds the commodious 
hotel. Down in the deep gorge, where the green lime- 
stone water rushes from the cave, the whippoorwills 
had begun their plaintive melodies. Never did nature 
seem more beautiful than on this occasion. The entire 
d'emesene seemed to radiate the spirit of long ago. A 
mist was rising from the entrance to the cave, and as 
night progressed it seemed to form into the figures of 
the murdered Malachi Boyer and his sweetheart, 
Nita-nee, surrounded by the hostile forms of the old 
chief and his seven sons, who would not permit a 
marriage between an Indian princess and a white ad- 
venturer. Then these farms seemed to fade away, 
and in their places came those of Rev. Martin, Rev. 
Long, Paxton and Woods, the early explorers of the 
cave. It was a night full of fancies and imaginings, 
where one lives over his life in retrospect. It was a 
place where one can find relief and rest from the 
cares of the modern, complex life. If the fountain of 
youth is in Pennsylvania, surely it must have flowed 
out of the unsounded depths of Penn's Cave.i for all 
who have been there have come away strengthened 
and spiritually purified by its rare beauty and precious 
flood of memories. 



rSee Chapter VII. 



IV. THE LEGEND OF PENN'S CAVE 



(Related by Isaac Steele, an Aged Seneca Indian, 
in 1892.) 

IN THE DAYS when the West Branch Valley was 
a trackless wilderness of defiant pines and sub- 
missive hemlocks, twenty-five years before the 
first pioneer had attempted lodgment beyond Sunbury, 
a young Pennsylvania Frenchman, from Lancaster 
Couniy, named Malachi Boyer, alone and unaided, 
pierced the jungle to a point where Belief onte is now 
located. The history of his travels has never been 
written, partly because he had no white companion to 
observe them, and partly because he himself was un- 
able to write. His very identity would no be forgot- 
ten were it not for the traditions of the Indians, with 
whose lives he became strangely entangled. 

A short, stockily built fellow was Malachi Boyer. 
with unusually prominent black eyes and black hair 
that hung in ribbon-like strands over his broad, low 
forehead. Fearless, yet conciliatory, he escaped a 
thousand times from Indian cunning and treachery, 
and as the months went by and he penetrated further 
into the forests he numbered many redskins among 
his cherished friends. 

Why he explored these boundless wilds he could 
not explain, for it was not in the inteiest of science, 
as he scarcely knew of such a thing as geography, and 
it was not for trading, as he lived by the way. But on 
he forced his path, ever aloof from his own race, on 

28 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 29 

the alert for the strange scenes that encompassed him 
day by day. 

One beautiful month of April— there is no one who 
can tell the exact year— found Malachi Boyer camped 
on the shores of Spring Creek. Near the Mammoth 
Spring was an Indian camp, whose occupants main- 
tained a quasi-intercourse with the pale-faced stranger. 
Sometimes old Chief O-ko-cho would bring gifts of 
corn to Malachi, who in turn presented the chieftain 
with a hunting knife of truest steel. And in this way 
Malachi came to spend more and more of his time 
about the Indian camps, only keeping his distance at 
night and during religious ceremonies. 

Old O-ko-cho's chief pride was centered in his seven 
stalwart sons, Hum-kin, Ho-ko-lin, Too-chin, Os-tin, 
Chaw-kee-bin, A-ha-kin, Ko-lo-pa-kind and his Diana- 
like daughter, Nita-nee. The seven brothers resolved 
themselves into a guard of honor for their sister, who 
had many suitors, among whom was the young chief 
E-Faw, from the adjoining sub-tribe of the A-caw-ko- 
tahs. But Nita-nee gently, though firmly, repulsed her 
numerous suitors, until such time as her father would 
give her in marriage to one worthy of her regal blood. 
Thus ran the course of Indian life when Malachi 
Boyer made his bed of hemlock boughs by the gurg- 
ling waters of Spring Creek. And it was the first 
sight of her, washing a deer-skin in the stream, that 
led him to prolong his stay and ingratiate himself with 
her father's tribe. 

Few were the words that passed between Malachi 



30 . PBNN'S GRANDEIST CAVERN 

and Nita-nee, niany the glances, and often did the 
handsome pair meet in the mossy ravines near tiie 
camp grounds. But this was all clandestine love, for 
friendly as Indian and white might be in social inter- 
course, never could a marriage be tolerated, until — 
there always is a. turning point in romance — the black - 
haired wanderer and the beautiful Nita-nee resolved 
to spend their lives together, and one moonless nigh^" 
started for the more habitable East. All night long 
they treaded their silent way, climbing the mountaiji 
ridges, gliding through the velvet-soiled hemlock 
glades, nd wading, hand in hand, the splashing, reso- 
lute torrents. When morning came they breakfasted 
on dried meat and huckleberries, and bathed their 
faces in a mineral spring. Until — there is always a 
turning point in romance — seven tall, stealthy forms, 
like animated mountain pines, stepped from the gloom 
and surrounded the eloping couple. Malachi drew a 
hunting knife, identical with the one he had given to 
Chief O-ko-cho, and, seizing Nita-nee around th? 
waist, stabbed right and left at bis would-be captors. 
The first stroke pierced Hum-kin's heart, and, uncom- 
plainingly, he sank down dying. The six remaining 
brothers, although receiving stab wounds, caught 
Malachin in their combined grasp and disarmed him ; 
then one brother held sobbing Nita-nee, while the 
others dragged fighting Malachi across the mountain. 
That was the last the lovers saw of one another. Be- 
low the mountain lay a broad valley, from the center 
of which rose a circular hillock, and it was to this. 



PENX'iS! GRANDEST CAVERN 31 



mound the savage brothers led their victim. As they 
approached, a yawning cavern met their eves, filled 
with greenish limestone water. There is a ledge at 
the mouth of the cave, about six feet higher than the 
water, above which the arched roof rises thirty feet, 
and. it was from here they shoved Malachi Boyer into 
the tide below. He sank for a moment, but when he 
rose to the surface, commenced to swim. He ap- 
proached the ledge, but the brothers beat him back, so 
he turned and made for some dry land in the rear of 
the cavern. . Two of the brothers ran from the entrance 
over the ridge to watch, where there is another small 
opening, but though Malachi tried his best, in the im- 
penetrable darkness, he could not find this or any other 
avenue of escape. He swam back to the cave's mouth, 
but the merciless Indians were still on guard. He 
climbed up again and again, but was repulsed, and once 
more retired to the dry cave. Every day for a week he 
renewed his efforts to escape, but the brothers were 
never- absent. Hunger became unbearable, his strength 
gave way, but he vowed he would not let the redskins 
see him die, so forcing himself into one of the fur- 
themost labyrinths, Malachi Boyer breathed his last. 

Two days afterward the brothers entered the cave 
and discovered the body. They touched not the coins 
in his pockets, but weighted him with stones and 
dropped him into the deepest part of the greenish 
limestone water. And after these years those who 
have heard this legend declare that on the still summer 
nights an unaccountable echo rings through the cave, 
which sounds like "Nita-nee," "Nita-nee." 



CAVE PANTHERS 



E\'ERYONE who has hunted in the "Seven Broth- 
ers,'' as the Seven Mountains are called in Cen- 
tral Pennsylvania, has heard of Daniel Kars- 
tetter, the famous Nimrod. *Though the greater part 
of a hundred years have passed since he was in his 
hey-day as a slayer of big game, his fame is undimin- 
ished. Anecdotes of his prowess are related in every 
hunting camp. By one and all he has heen acclaimed 
the greatest hunter that the Seven Brothers ever pror 
duced. The great Nimrod, who lived to a very ad- 
vanced age. was born in 1818, on the banks of the Ka- 
roondinha. or Penn's Creek, at the Blue Rock, half a 
mile back of the present town of Coburn. In addition 
to his hunting prowess he was interested in psychic 
experiences, and was as prone to discuss his adven- 
tures with supernatural agenciesis his conflicts with 
the wild denizens of the forest. There was a particu- 
lar ghost story which he loved dearly to relate. 
Accompanied by his younger brother Jacob he had 
been attending a dance one night across the mountains, 
in the environs of the town of Milroy, for like all the 
backwoods boys of his time, he was adept in the art 
of terpsichore. The long journey was made on horse- 
back, the lads being mounted on stout Conestogi 
charo-ers. The homeward ride was commenced after 



*The Seven Mountains comprise the Path Valley, Short, 
BaM, Thick Head, Sand, Shade and Tussey Mountains. 

32 



PE^NN'iSl GRANDEST CAVERN 33 

midnight, the two brothers riding along the dark trail 
in single file. In the wide flat on the top of the "Big 
Mountain" Daniel fell into a doze. When he awoke, 
his mount having stumbled on a stone, Jacob was 
nowhere to be seen. Thinking that his brother had 
put his horse to a trot and gone on ahead, Daniel dis- 
missed the matter of his absence from his mind. As 
he was riding down the deep slope of the mountain, ne 
noticed a horseman waiting for him on the path. When 
they came abreast the other rider fell in beside him, 
skillfully guilding his horse so that it did not encounter 
the dense foliage which lined the narrow way. Daniel 
supposed the party to be his brother, although the 
unknown kept his lynx-skin collar turned up, and his 
felt cap was pulled down level with his eyes. It was 
pitchy dark; so, to make sure, Daniel called out. "Is 
that you, Jacob?" His companion did not reply, so 
the young man repeated his query in still louder tones, 
but all he heard w^as the crunching of the horses' hoofs 
on the pebbly road. 

Daniel Karstetter, master-slayer of panthers, red 
bears and wildcats, was no coward, though on this o-.- 
casion he felt uneasy. Yet he disliked picking a quar- 
rel with the silent man at his side, who clearly was not 
his brother, and he feared to put his horse to a galloD 
on the steep, uneven roadway. The trip home never 
before seemed of such interminable length. For the 
greater part of the distance Daniel made no attempt 
to converse with his unsociable comrade. Finally, he 
heaved a sigh of relief when he saw a light gleamin,:;- 



34 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

in the horse stahle at the home farm. When he 
reached the barnyard gate he dismounted to let down 
the bars, while the stranger apparently vanished in 
the gloom. Daniel led his mount to the horse stable, 
where he found his brother Jacob sitting by the old 
tin lantern, fast asleep. He awakened him and asked 
him when he had gotten home. Jacob stated that 
his horse had been feeling good, so he let him canter 
all the way. He had been sleeping, but judged that 
he had been home at least half an hour. He had 
met no horseman on the road. Daniel was convinced, 
that his companion had been a ghost, or, as they are 
called in the "Seven Brothers", a gsJipook. But he 
made no further comment that night. A year after- 
wards, in coming- back alone from a dance in Stone 
Valley, he was again joined by the silent horseman, 
who followed him to his barnyard gate. He gave u.j 
going to dances on that account. At least once a year, 
or as long as he was able to go out at night, he met the 
ghostly rider. Sometimes, when tramping along 0,1 
foot after a hunt, or, in later 3^ears, coming back ir^ni 
market in his Jenny Lind, he would find the silent 
horseman at his side. After the first experience he 
never attempted to speak to the nightrider, but he be- 
came convinced that it meant him no harm. As his 
prowess as a hunter became recognized he had many 
jealous rivals among the less successful Nimrods. In 
those old days threats of all kinds were freely made. 
He heard on several occasions that certain hunters 
were setting out to "fix" him. But a man who could 



PENN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 35 

wrestle with panthers and bears knew no such thing 
as fear. One night, while tramping along in Green's 
Valley, he was startled by some one in the path ahead 
of him shouting out in Pennsylvania German. ''Han('s 
up !" He was on the point of dropping his rifle, when 
he heard the rattle of hoofbeats back of him. The 
silent horseman in an instant was by his side, the 
dark horse pawing the earth with his giant hoofs. 
There was a crackling of brush in the path ahead, and 
no more threats of hend uff. The ghostly rider fol- 
lowed Daniel to his barnyard gate, but was gone be- 
fore he could utter a word of thanks. As the result 
of this adventure he became imbued with the idea that 
he possessed a charmed life. It gave him added cour- 
age in his many encounters with panthers, the fierce 
red bears and lynxes. 

Apart from his love of hunting the more dangerous 
animals, Daniel enjoyed the sport of deer-shooting. 
He maintained several licks, one of them in a patch of 
low ground near the entrance to the ''dry'' part of 
Penn's Cave. At this spot he constructed a blind, or 
platform, between two ancient tupelo trees, about 
twenty feet from the ground, and many were the huge 
white-faced stags which fell to his unerring bullets 
during the rutting season. One cold night, according 
to an anecdote frequently related by one of his de- 
scendants, while perched in his eyrie overlooking the 
natural clearing which constituted the lick, and in sight 
of a path frequented by the fiercer beasts, which led to 
the opening of the ''dry" cave, he saw, about midnight. 



36 PENN'S G-RANDEST CAVERN 

a huge pantheress, followed by a large male of the 
same species, come out into the open. "The pantheress 
strolled from the path," so the story went, "and came 
and laid herself dow^i at the roots of the tupelo trees, 
while the panther remained in the path and seemed to 
be listening to some noise as yet inaudible to the 
hunter. Daniel soon heard a distant roaring; it seemed 
to come from the very summit of the Brush Moun- 
tain, and immediately the pantheress answered it. 
Then the panther, on the path, his jealousies aroused, 
commenced to roar with a voice so loud that the 
frightened hunter almost let go his trusty rifle and 
held tighter to the railing of his blind, lest he might 
tumble to the earth. As the voice of the animal that 
he had heard in the distance gradually approached, 
the pantheress welcomed him with renewed roarings, 
and the panther, restless, went and came from the path 
to his flirtatious flame, as though he wished her to keep 
silence, and from the pantheress to the -path, as though 
to say, 'Let him come if he dares ; he will find his 
match.' In about an hour a gigantic panther stepped 
out of the forest and stood in the full moonlight on 
the other side of the cleared place. The pantheress, 
eyeing him with admiration, raised herself to go to 
him, but the panther, divining her intent, rushed be- 
fore her and marched right at his adversary. With 
measured step and slow^. they approached to within a 
dozen paces of each other. Their smooth, round heads 
high in the air. their bulging yellow eyes gleaming, 
their long, tufted tails slowly sweeping down the 



PENN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 37 



brittle asters that grew about them. They crouched 
to the earth — a moment's pause — and then they 
bounded with a helHsh scream high in the air and 
rolled on the ground, locked in their last embrace. 
The battle was long and fearful to the amazed and 
spellbound witness of this midnight duel. Even if he 
had so wished, he could not have taken steady enough 
aim to lire. But he preferred to watch the combat, 
while the moonlight lasted. The bones of the two 
combatants cracked under their powerful jaws, their 
talons strewed the frosty ground with entrails,' and 
painted it red with blood, and their outcries, now 
gutteral, now sharp and loud, told their rage and 
agony. At the beginnig of the contest the pantheress 
crouched herself on her belly, with her eyes fixed 
upon the gladiators, and all the while the battle raged, 
manifested, by the slow, cat-like motion of her tail, 
the pleasure she felt at the spectacle. When the scene 
closed, and all was quiet and silent and death-like on 
the lick, and the moon had commenced to wane, she 
cautiously approached the battle-ground, and, snifihng 
the lifeless bodies of her two lovers, walked leisurely 
to a nearby oak, where she stood on her hind feet, 
sharpening her fore claws on the bark. She glared up 
ferociously at the hunter in the blind, as if she meant 
to vent her anger by climbing after him. In the moon- 
light her golden eyes appearing so terrifying that Dan- 
iel dropped his rifle and it fell to the earth with a sick- 
ening thud. As he reached after it the flimsy railing 
gave wa\ and he fell, literally into the arms of the 



38 PENN'S ORANDBST CAVERN 

pantheress. Just at that moment the rumble of 
horses' hoofs. Hke thunder on some distant mountain, 
was heard. Just as the panther was about to rend the 
helpless Nimrod to bits, the unknown rider came into 
view. Scowling at the intruder, mounted on his huge 
black horse, the brute abandoned her prey and ambled 
off in the direction of the dry cave. Daniel seized his 
firearm and sent a bullet after her retreating form, but 
it apparently went wild of its mark. Meanwhile, before 
he had time to express his gratitude to the stranger he 
had vanished. Daniel was dumbfounded. As soon as 
he had recovered from the blood-curdling episodes, he 
built a small fire near the mammoth carcasses, where 
lie warmed his much benumbed hands. Then he ex- 
amined the dead panthers, but found that their hides 
were too badly torn to warrant skinning. Disgusted 
at not getting his deer, and being even cheated out of 
the panther pelts, he dragged the ghastly remains of 
the erstwhile kings of the forest by their tails to the 
edge of the entrance to the dry cave. There he cut off 
the long ears in order to collect the bounty, and then 
shoved the carcasses into the aperture. They fell with 
sickening thuds into the chamber beneath, to the evi- 
dent horror of the pantheress, which uttered a couple 
of piercing screams as the horrid remains of the recent 
battle royal landed in her vicinity. Then Jacob shoul- 
dered his rifle and startd out in search of small game 



PENN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 



39 



for his breakfast. That night he went to another of his 
hcks on Elk Creek, where he killed four superb stags," 
so the story concludes. But to his dying day he al- 
ways placed the battle of the panthers first of all his 
hunting adventures. And his faith in the unknown 
horseman as his deliverer and good genius became the 
absorbing, all-pervading influence of his life. 




VI. THE LITTLE POSTMISTRESS 



IT WAS long past dark when Mifflin Sargeant, of 
the Snow Shoe Land Company, came within sight 
of the welcoming lights of Stover's. For fourteen 
miles, through the foothills of the Narrows, he had 
not seen a sign of human habitation, except one de- 
serted hunter's cabin. There was an air of cheerful- 
ness and life about the building he had arrived at. 
Several doors opened simultaneously at the signal of 
his approach, given by a faithful watchdog, throwing 
the rich glow of the fat lamps and tallow candles 
across the road. The structure, which was very long 
and two stories high, housed under its accommodating 
roof a tavern, a boarding house, a farmstead, a lumber 
camp, a general store and a post office. It was the last 
outpost of civilization in the east end of Brush Valley ; 
beyond' were mountains and wilderness almost to 
Youngmanstown. Tom Tunis had not yet erected the 
substantial structure on the verge of the forest later 
known as "The Forest House". A dark-complexioned 
lad, who later proved to be Reuben Stover, the son of 
the landlord, took the horse by the bridle, assisting the 
young stranger to dismount. He also helped him to 
unstrap his saddle-bags, carrying them into the house. 
Sargeant noticed, as he passed across the porch, that 
the walls were closely hung with stags' horns, which 
showed the prevalence of these noble animals in the 
neighborhood. Old Daddy and Mammy Stover, who 

40 



PENN'ISI GRANDEST CAVERN 41 

ran the quaint caravansery, quickly made the visitor 
feel at honije. It was after the regular supper-time, 
but a fresh repast was cheerfully prepared in the huge 
stone chimney. The young man explained to his hosts 
that he had ridden that day from New Berlin ; he had 
come from Philadelphia to Harrisburg by train, to 
Liverpool by packet boat, at which last named place 
his horse had been sent on to meet him. He added 
that he was on his way into Centre County, where 
he had recently purchased an interest in the Snow 
Shoe devlopment. After supper he strolled along 
the porch to the far end, to the post office, thinking 
he would send a letter home. A mail had been brought 
in from Rebersburg during the afternoon, conse- 
quently the post office, and not the tavern stand, was 
the attraction of the crowd this night. The narrow 
room was poorly lighted by fat lamps, which cast 
great, fitful shadows, making grotesques out of the 
oddly-costumed, bearded wolf hounters present, who 
were the principal inhabitants of the surrounding 
ridges. A few women, hooded and shawled, were 
noticeable in the throng. In a far corner, leaning 
against the water bench, was young Reuben, the 
hostler, tuning up his wheezy fiddle. As many per- 
sons as possible hung over the rude counter, across 
which the mail was being delivered, and where many 
letters were written in reply. Above this counter 
were suspended three fat lamps, attached to grooved 
poles, which, by cleverly-devised pulleys, could be 
lifted to any height desired. The young Philadelphian 



42 PENN'S GRANDEST .CAVERN 



edged his way through the good-humored concourse 
to ask permission to use the ink; he had brought his 
favorite quill pen and the paper with him. This 
brought him face to face, across the counter, with 
the postmistress. He had not been able to see her 
before, as her trim little figure had been wholly ob- 
scured by the ponderous forms that lined the counter. 
Instantly he was charmed by her appearance — it was 
unusual — by her look of neatness and alertness. Their 
eyes met — it was almost with a smiile of mutual 
recognition. When he asked her if he could borrow 
the ink, which was kept in a large earthen pot of 
famous Sugar Valley make, she smiled on him again, 
and lie absorbed the charm of her personality anew. 
Though she was below the middle height, her figure 
was so lithe and erect that it fully compensated for 
the lack of inches. She wore a blue homespun dress, 
with a neat checked apron over it, the material for 
which constituted a luxury, and must have come all 
the way from Youngmanstown or Sunbury. Her pro- 
fuse masses of soft, wavy, light-brown hair, on which 
the hanging lamps above brought out a glint of gold, 
was worn low on her head. Her deepset eyes were 
a transparent blue, her features, well developed, and 
when she turned her face in profile, the high arch of 
the nose showed at once mental stability and energy. 
Her comiplexion was fair ; there seemed to be always 
that kindly smile playing about the eyes and lips. When 
she pushed the heavy inkwell towards him he noticed 
that her hands were very white, the fingers tapering; 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 43 



they were the hands of innate refinement. Almost 
imperceptibly the young man found himself in conver- 
sation with the little postmistress. Doubtless she was 
interested to meet an attractive stranger, one from 
such a distant city as Philadelphia. While they talked', 
the letter was gradually written, sealed, weighed and 
paid for; it was before the days of postage stamps, 
and the postmistress politely waited on her customers. 
He had told her his name — Mifflin Sargeant — and she 
had given him hers — Caroline Hager — and that she 
was eighteen years of age. He had told her about his 
prispective trip into the wnlds of Centre County, of 
the fierce beasts which he had heard still abounded 
there. The girl informed him that he would not have 
to go farther west to meet wild animals; that wolf 
hides by the dozens were brought to Stover's each 
winter, where they were traded in ; that old Stover, a 
justice of the peace, attested to the bounty warrants — • 
in fact, the wolves howled from the hill across the 
road on cold nights when the dogs were particularly 
restless. Her father was a wolf hunter, and would 
never allow her to go home alone ; consequently, when 
he could not accompany her, she remained in the 
dwelling which housed the post office. Panthers, too, 
were occasionally met with in the locality (in the 
original surveys the region was referred to as "cat- 
land"), also huge red bears and the somewhat smaller 
black ones. If he was going '.vest, she continued in 
her pretty way, he miust not fail to visit the great 
limestone cave near where the Brush Mountain ended. 



44 PENN'S GRANDEiST CAVERN 

She had a sister married and living nor far from it, 
from wliom she had heard wonderful tales, though 
she had never been there herself. It was a cave so 
vast it had not as yet been fully explored ; one could 
travel for miles in it in a boat ; John Penn's Creek 
had its source in it; Indians had formerly lived in the 
dry parts, and wild beasts. Then she lowered her 
voice to say that it was now haunted by the Indians' 
spirits. And so they talked until a very late hour, the 
crowd in the post office melting away, until Jared 
Hager, the girl's father, in his wolfskin coat, appeared 
to escort her home, to the cabin beyond the waterfall 
near the trail to Hope Valley. She was to have a 
holiday until the next afternoon. The wolf hunter 
was a courageous-looking man, much darker than his 
daughter, with a heavy beard and bushy eyebrows. 
He spoke pleasantly with the young stranger, and 
then they all said good night. "Don't forget to visit 
the great cavern", Caroline called to the youth. "I 
surely will", he answered, "and stop here on my w^ay 
east to tell you all about it". "That's good ; we want 
to see you again", said the girl, as she disappeared 
into the gloomy shadows which the shaggy white 
pines cast across the road. Young Stover was play- 
ing "Green Grows the Rushes" on his fiddle in the 
tap-room and Sargeant sat there listening to him, 
dreaming and musing all the while, his consciousness 
singularly alert, until the closing hour came. That 
night, in the old stained four-poster, in his tiny, cold 
roomi, he slept not at all. Yet he feared to dream." 



PENN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 45 



Though his thoughts carried him all over the world, 
the little postmistress was uppermost in every fancy. 
Among other things, he wished that he had asked her 
to ride with him to the cave. They could have visited 
the subterranean marvels together. He got out of 
Bed and managed to light the fat lamp. By its sput- 
tering gleams he wrote her a letter, which came to an 
abrupt end as the small supply of ink which he car- 
ried with him was exhausted, ikit as he repemed of 
the intense sentences penned to a person who knew 
him so slightly,, he arose before morning and tore it 
to bits. There was a white frost on the buildings and 
ground when he came downstairs. The Autumn air 
was cold, the atmosphere was a hazy, melancholy 
grey. There seem^ed to be a cessation of all the li\ang 
forces of nature, as if waiting for the summons of 
winter. From the chimney of the old inn came the 
pungent odor of burning pine wood. With a strange 
sadness he saddled his horse and resumed his ride 
towards the west. He thought constantly of Caroline 
—so much so that after he had traveled ten miles he 
wanted to turn back; he felt miserable without her. 
If only she were riding beside him, the two bound 
for Penn's Valley Cave, he could be supremely happy. 
Without her, he d'id not care to visit the cavern, or 
anything else; so at Madisonburg he crossed the 
northern mountains, leaving the southerly valleys 
behind. He rode up Nittany Valley to Bellefonte, 
where he met the agent of the Snow Shoe Company! 
With this gentleman he visited the vast tract being 



46 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

Opened up to lumbering, mining and colonization. 
But his thoughts were elsewhere ; they were across 
the mountains with the little postmistress of Stover's. 
Satisfied that his investment would prove remunera- 
tive, he left the development company's cozy lodge- 
house, and, with heart growing lighter with each mile, 
started for the East. It was wonderful how differ- 
ently — how vastly more beautiful the country seemed 
on this return journey. He fully appreciated the 
wistful loveliness of the fast-fading Autumn foliage, 
the crispness of the air, the beauty of each stray tuft 
of asters, the last survivors of the wild flowers along 
the trail. The world was fully of joy, everything was 
in harmony. Again it was after nightfall when he 
reined his horse in front of Stover's long, rambling 
house. This time two doors opened simultaneously, 
sending forth golden lights and shadows. One was 
from the tap room, where the hostler emerged ; the 
other from the post office bringing little Caroline. 
There was no mail that night, consequently the office 
was practically deserted ; she had time to come out and 
greet her much admired friend. z\nd let it be said' that 
ever since she had seen him, her heart was aflame with 
the image of Mifflin Sargeant. She was canny enough 
to appreciate such a man, besides he was a good-look- 
ing youth, though perhaps of a less robust type than 
those most admired in the Red Hills. After cordial 
greetings the young man had his supper, after which 
he repaired to the post oflice. By that time the last 
straggler was gone; he had a blissful evening with his 



PBNN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 47 

fair Caroline. She anticipated his coming, being 
somewhat of a psychic, and had arranged to spend 
the night with the Stovers. They was no hurry to 
retire ; when they went out on the porch preparatory 
to locking up, the hunter's moon was sinking behind 
the western knobs, which rose like the pyramids of 
Egypt against the sky line. Sargeant lingered around 
the old house for three days ; when he departed it 
was with extreme reluctance. Seeing Caroline again 
in the future appeared like something too good to be 
true, so downhearted was he at the parting. But he 
had arranged to come back the following Autumn, 
bringing an extra horse with him, and the two would 
ride to the wonderful cavern in Penn's V^alley and 
explore to the ends its stygian depths. Meanwhile 
they would make most of their separation through a 
steady correspondence. Despite glances, pressure of 
hands, chance, caresses, and evident happiness in one 
another's society, not a word of love had passed 
between the pair. That was why the pain of parting 
was so intense. If Caroline could have remembered 
one loving phrase, then she would have felt that she 
had something tangible on which to hang her hopes. 
If the young Philadelphian had unburdened his heart 
by telling her that he loved' her, and her alone, and 
heard her words of affirmation, the world out into 
which he went riding would have seemed less a blank. 
But underneath his love, burning like a hot branding 
iron, was his consciousness of class, his fear of the 
consequences if he took to the great city a bride from 



48 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

another sphere. As an only son, he could not picture 
himself deserting his widowed mother and sisters 
and living at Snow Shoe; there he was sure that 
Caroline would be happy. Neither could he see per- 
manent peace of mind if he married her and brought 
her into his exclusive circles in the Quaker City. As 
he was an honorable young man, and his love was 
real, making her truly and always happy was the 
solitary consideration. These thoughts marred the 
parting; they blistered and ravaged his spirit on the 
whole dreary way back to Liverpool. There his col- 
ored servant, an antic darkey, was waiting at the old 
Susquehanna House to ride the horse to Philadelphia. 
The young man boarded the packet, riding on it to 
Harrisburg, wdiere he took the steam train for home. 
In one way he was happier than ever before in his 
life, for he had found love ; in another he was the 
most dejected of men, for his beloved might never be 
his own. He seemed gayer and stronger to his fam- 
ily; evidently the trip into the wilderness had done 
him good. He had begun his letter-writing to Caro- 
line promptly. It was his great solace in his heart 
perplexity. She wrote a very good letter, very tender 
and sympathetic, the handwriting was clear, almost 
masculine, denoting the bravery of her spirit. Dur- 
ing the winter he was called upon through his sisters 
to mingle much with the society of the city. He met 
many beautiful and attractive young women, but for 
him the die of love had been cast. He was Caroline's 
irretrievably. Absence made his love firmer, yet the 



PENN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 49 



solution of it all the more enigmatical. The time 
passed on apace. x\nother Autumn set in, but on 
account of important business matters it was not until 
December that Sargeant departed for the wilds of 
Central Pennsylvania. But he could spend Christmas 
with his love. This time he sent two horses ahead to 
Liverpool. When he reached the queer old river 
town he dropped into an old saddlery shop, where the 
canal-boat drivers had their harness mended, and 
purchased a neat side saddle all studded with brass 
headed nails. This he tied on behind his servant's 
saddle. The two horsemen started up the Mahan- 
tango, crossing the Shade Mountain to Swinefords- 
town, thence over the edge of Jack's Mountain to 
Hartley Hall and the Narrows, a slightly shorter 
route to Stover's. On his previous trip he had rid- 
den along the river to Selin's Grove, across Chestnut 
Ridge to New Berlin, over Shamokin Ridge to 
Youngmanstown, and from there to the Narrows ; he 
was in no hurry : no dearly loved girl was waiting for 
him in those days. Caroline, looking prettier than 
ever — she was a trifle plumper and redder cheeked — 
was at the post office steps to greet him. Despite his 
avoidance of words of love, she was certain of his 
inmost feelings, and opined that somehow the ulti- 
mate result would be well. Sargeant had arranged to 
arrive on a Saturday evening, so that they could begin 
their ride to the cave that night after the post office 
closed, and be there bright and early Sunday morn- 
ing. P'or this reason he had traveled by very easy 



50 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

Stages from Hartley Hall, that the horses might be 
fresh for their added journey. Sargeant's devoted 
Negro factotum was taken somewhat aback w^hen he 
saw how attentive the young man was to the girl, 
and marveled at the mountain maid's rare beauty. 
Upon instructions from his master, he set about to 
changing the saddles, placing the brand new lady's 
saddle on the horse he had been riding. It was not 
long until the tiny post office was closed for the night, 
and Caroline emerged, wearing a many-caped red 
riding coat, the hood of which she threw over her 
head to keep the wavy, chestnut hair in place. She 
climbed into the saddle gracefully — she seemed a nat- 
ural horsewoman — and soon the loving pair were can- 
tering up the road toward's Wolfe's Store, Rebers- 
burg and the cave. It was not quite daybreak when 
they passed the home of old Jacob Harshbarger, the 
tenant of the ''cave farm" ; a Creeley rooster was 
crowing lustily in the barnyard, the unmilked cattle 
of the ancient black breed shook their heads lazily ; no 
one was up. The young couple had planned to visit the 
cave, breakfast and spend the day with Caroline's sis- 
ter, who lived not far away at Centre Hill, and' ride 
leisurely back to Stover's in the late afternoon. It 
had been a very cold all-night ride, but they had been 
so happy that it had seemed brief and free from all 
disagreeable physical sensations. In those days there 
was no boat in the cave, and no guides ; consequently 
all intending visitors had to bring their own torches. 
This Caroline had seen to, and in her leisure moments 



PENN'iS' GRANDEST CAVERN 51 

for weeks before her lover's coming, had been 
arranging a supply of rich-pine lights that would see 
them safely through the gloomy labyrinths. They 
fed their horses and then tied them to the fence of 
the orchard which surrounded the entrance to the 
"dry" cave, and which had been recently set out. 
Several big original white pines grew along the road, 
and would give the horses shelter in case it turned out 
to be a windy day. The young couple strolled through 
the orchard, and down the steep path to the mouth 
of the 'Svatery" cave, where they gazed for some 
minutes at the expanse of greenish water, the high 
span of the arched roof, the general impressiveness of 
the scene so like the stage-setting of some elfin drama. 
They sat on the dead grass, near this entrance, eating 
a light breakfast with relish. Then they wended their 
way up the hill to the circular "hole in the ground" 
which formed the doorway to the dry cave. The 
torches were carefully lit, the supply of fresh ones 
was tied in a bundle about Sargeant's waist. The 
burning pine gave forth an aromatic odor and a mel- 
low light. They descended through the narrow open- 
ing, the young man going ahead and helping his 
sweetheart after him. Down the spiral passageway 
they went, until at length they came into a large 
chamber. Here the torches cast unearthly shadows, 
bats fiitted about ; some small animal ran past them 
into an aperture at a far corner. Sargeant declared 
that he l:>elieved the elusive creature a fox, and he 
followed in the direction in which it had gone. \\Mien 



52 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



he came to this opening he peered through it, finding 
that it led to an inner chamber of impressive propor- 
tions. He went back, taking CaroHne by the hand, 
and led her to the narrow chamiber into which 
they both entered. Once in the interior room, 
they were amazed by its size, the height of its roof, 
the beauty of the stalactite formations. They sat 
down on a fallen stalagmite, holding aloft their 
torches, absorbed by the beauty of the scene. In the 
midst of their musing a sudden gust of wind blew 
out their lights. They were in utter darkness. The 
young lover bade his sweetheart be unafraid, while 
he reached his hand in his pocket for the matches. 
They were primitive afifairs, the few he had, and he 
could not make them light. He had not counted on 
the use of the matches, as he thought one torch could 
be lit from another ; consequently had brought so few 
with him. Finally he lit a match, but the dampness 
extinguished it before he could ignite his torch. 
When the last match failed, it seemed as if the couple 
were in a serious predicament. They first shouted 
at the top of their voices, but only empty echoes 
answered them. They fumbled about in the chamber, 
stumbling over rocks and stalagmites, their eyes 
refusing to become accustomed to the profound 
blackness. Try as they would, they could not locate 
the passage that led from the room they were in to 
the outer apartment. Caroline, little heroine that she 
was, made no complaint. If she had any secret fears 
her lover effectually quenched them by telling her 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 53 

that the presence of the two saddle horses tied to the 
orchard fence would acquaint the Harshbarger family 
of their presence in the cave. "Surely," he went on, 
'*we will be rescued in a few hours. There's bound 
to be some member of the household or some hunter 
see those horses". But the hours passed, and with 
them came no intimations of rescue. But the two 
"prisoners" loved one another, time was as nothing 
to them. In the outer world, both thought, but 
neither made bold to say, that they might have to 
separate — in the cave they were one in purpose, one 
in love. How gloriously happy they were. But they 
did get a trifle hungry, but that was appeased at first 
by the remnants of the breakfast provisions, which 
they luckily still had in a little bundle. When suffi- 
cient time had elapsed for night to set in, they fell 
asleep, and in each other's arms. Caroline's last con- 
scious moment was to feel her lover's kisses. When 
they awoke, many hours afterwards, they were hun- 
grier than ever, and thirsty. Sargeant fumbled about, 
locating a small pool of water, where the two 
quenched their thirst. But still they were happy, 
come what may. They would be rescued, that was 
certain, unless the horses had broken loose and run 
away, but there was small chance of that. They had 
been securely tied. It was strange that no one had seen 
the steeds in so long a time, with the farmhouse less 
than a quarter of a mile away — but it was at the foot 
of the hill. Hunger grew apace with every hour. 
After a while drinking water would not sate it It 



54 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

throbbed and ached, it became a dull pain, that only 
love could triumph over. Again enough hours 
elapsed to bring sleep, but it was harder to find re- 
pose, though Sargeant's kisses were marvelous recom- 
pense. Caroline never whimpered from lack of food. 
To be with her lover was all she asked. She had 
prayed for over a year to be with him again. She 
would be glad to die at his side, even of starvation. 
The young man was content ; hunger was less a pain 
to him than had been the past fourteen months' sep- 
aration. Again came what they supposed to be morn- 
ing. They knew that there must be some way out 
near at hand, as the air was so pure. They shouted, 
but the dull echoes were their only reward. Strongely 
enough, they had never felt another cold gust like 
the one which had blown out their torches. Could the 
shade of one of the old-time Indians who had fought 
for possession of the cave been perpetrator of the 
trick, suggested lovely little Caroline. If so, she 
thought to herself ; he had helped her, not harmed her, 
for could there be in the world a sensation half so 
sweet as sinking to rest in her handsome lover's arms ? 
Meanwhile the world outside the cavern had been 
going its way. Shortly after the young equestrians 
passed the Harshbarger dwelling, all the family had 
come out, and, after attending to their farm duties, 
driven off to the Seven Mountains, where the sons of 
the family maintained a hunting camp on the Karoon- 
dinha on the other side of High Valley. The boys 
had killed an elk, consequently the guests remained 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN &5 

longer than expected, to partake of a grand Christmas 
feast. They tarried at the camp all of that day, all 
of the next; it was not until early on the morning of 
the third day that they started back to the Penn's 
Creek farm. They had arranged with a neighbor's 
boy. Mosey Shell, who lived further along the creek 
below the farmhouse, to do the feeding in their ab- 
sence ; it was winter, there was no need to hurry 
home. When they got home they found Mosey in the 
act of watering two very dejected and dirty looking 
horses with saddles on their backs. "Where did they 
come from"? shouted the big freight-wagon load in 
unison. "I found them tied to the fence up at the 
orchard. By the way they act I'd think they hadn't 
been watered or fed for several days", replied the 
boy. *'You dummy" ! said old Hjarshbarger, in 
Dutch. ''Somebody's in that cave and got lost, and 
can't get out". He jumped out of the heavy wagon 
and ran to a corner of the corncrib, where he kept a 
stock of torches. Then he hurried up the steep hill 
towards the entrance to the dry cave. The big man 
was panting when he reached the opening, where he 
paused a moment to kindle a torch. Then he lowered 
himself into the pit, shouting at the top of his voice, 
"Hello ! Hello ! Hello !" It was not until he had got- 
ten into the first chamber that the captives in the 
inner room could hear him. Sargeant had been sit- 
ting with his back propped against the cavern wall, 
while Caroline, very pale and white-lipped, was lying 
across his knees, gazing up into the darkness, imagin- 



56 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



ing that she could see his face. When they heard the 
cheery shouts of their dehverer, they did not in- 
stantly attempt to scramble to their feet. Instead the 
young lover bent over; his lips touched Caroline's, 
who instinctively had raised her face to meet his. As 
his lips touched hers, he whispered, "I love you, my 
darling, with all my heart. We will be married when 
we get out of here''. Caroline had time to say, "You 
are my only love", before their lips came together. 
They were in that position when the flare of Farmer 
Harshbarger's torch lit up their hiding place. Pretty 
soon they were on their feet, and, with their rescuer, 
figuring out just how long they had been in their 
prison — their prison of love. They had gone into the 
cave on the morning of Decemiber 24th ; it was now 
the morning of the 2Tth ; in fact, almost noon. Christ- 
mas had come and gone. Caroline still had enough 
strength in reserve to enable her to climb up the tor- 
tuous passage, though her 'lover did help her some, 
as all lovers should. The farmer's wife had some 
coffee and buckwheat cakes ready when they arrived 
at the manse, which the erstwhile captives of Penn's 
Cave sat down to enjoy. As they were eating, an- 
other of Harshbarger's sons rode up on horseback. 
He had been to the post office at Earlysburg. He 
handed Sargeant a tiny, badly typed newspaper pub- 
lished in Millheim. Across the front page, in letters 
larger than usual, were the words, ''Mexico Declares 
War With the United States'". Sargeant scanned the 
headline intently, then laid the paper on the table. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



57 



''Our country has been drawn into a war with Mex- 
ico"he said, w^ith a voice trembHng with emotion. ''I 
had hoped it might be avoided'. I am First Lieuten- 
ant of the Lafayette Greys; I fear Fll have to go". 
Caroline lost the color which had come back to her 
pretty cheeks since emerging from the underground 
dungeon. She reached over, grasping her lover's now 
clamjmy hand. Then noticing that no one was listen- 
ing, she said faintly: "It is terrible to have you leave 
me now; but won't you marry me before you go? I 
do love you". "Certainly I will", replied Sargeant, 
with enthusiasm. "I will have more to fight for, with 
you at home bearing my name". Love had broken 
the bonds of caste. 




VII. GOV. CURTIN'S VISIT 



CAPTAIN JOHN Q. DYCE,* one of the pioneer 
Democratic leaders of Clinton County, who died 
in 190-1, was fond of telling about Governor 
Andrew G. Curtin's visit to Penn's Cave, and the 
great statesman's opinion of the cavern. It appeared 
that during the Philadelphia Centennial in 1876 among 
hosts of other celebrated foreigners who visited the 
exposition were three Russians of note, Field Marshal 
von Fersen, Count Hickoff, and Baron de Toplitz- 
Harberstain. They were accompanied by their secre- 
taries and retinues of servants. The heat of the city 
was intolerable, it was in the month of August, and, 
tiring of the marvels of the exposition, they sought to 
visit the interior of the state in search of cooler 
weather. One of the party recalled the fact that a 
few years previously Andrew G. Curtin, who lived 
somewhere in Central Pennsylvania, had been in Rus- 
sia as United States Minister. The Russians ad- 
mired the gallant ''War Governor", who had made a 
most efficient envoy, so nothing would satisfy them 
but to seek out and pay their respects. And thus 
it came to pass that one night, when the Bald Eagle 
Valley train pulled into Bellefonte, it deposited on the 
platform, to the wonder of the collected natives, three 
Russian grandees, nine lesser individuals, and a pile 
of luggage mountain high. It so happened that ex- 
Governor Curtin was at home alone, the rest of his 

*He was an officer of the "Battalions" before the Civil War. 
58 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 59 

family being at Saratoga. The ticket agent informed 
the great statesman that some foreigners, who spoke 
very little English, were waiting for him at the sta- 
tion. Hurrying to the depot as fast as he could travel, 
he recognized his intending guests, who embraced him 
in turn. They accepted the proffered invitation to 
spend the night at the War Governor's mansion, and 
soon the entire party was riding up the hill in a hotel 
bus, commandeered for the purpose. Once in the 
commodious mansion, the Russians felt perfectly at 
home. First of all, they salaamed many times before 
Brookman's magnificent oil portrait of the Czar 
Nicholas II., which the 'Xittle Father" had graciously 
presented to Curtin before his departure from St. 
Petersburg, and which hung in the War Governor's 
library. The visitors were much impressed by the dry, 
cool, pine-laden air which reminded them, they said, 
so much of Russia. These remarks made the tactful 
Curtin decide that the best form of entertainment 
would be a drive into the surrounding country. With 
his truly matchless memory he recollected that Count 
Hickoff was a man of some scientific attainments, had 
been one of the party to unearth the skeleton of a 
mammoth in Siberia, the tusks of which had been sent 
to the Stuttgart museum, measured on the outside 
curve twelve feet ten and one-half inches, and had a 
greatest circumference of thirty-one and one-half 
inches. Doubtless the noblemen would enjoy an ex- 
cursion to the Penn's Cave, situated within a delight- 
ful driving distance of Bellefonte. Captain Dyce hap- 



60 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

pened' to be in town that night, to discuss the Tilden 
Campaign with the War Governor. Governor Curtin, 
who was naturally too busy with his Russian guests 
to talk politics, smilingly told the Clinton County 
leader that he could do him a great favor if the next 
morning at eight o'clock he would have five or six 
two-horse surreys in front of the Curtin home. Dyce 
took the hint and spent the entire night among the 
local liverymen and horse jockeys getting together 
the equipment. Next morning, which dawned de- 
lightfully clear, at seven-thirty found six dignified- 
looking two-horse surreys, each driven by a grinning 
Negro, lined up on the hilly street before, the War 
Governor's domicile. As the party emerged from the 
house the Governor addressed them, saying, "Gentle- 
men, we go this morning to the greatest natural won- 
der in Pennsylvania". The Russian dignitaries, who 
were great horse lovers, spent fully fifteen minutes 
inspecting the livery nags, a goodly lot of trotting-bred 
type, which they declared were on the sam\e general 
lines of their own Orloffs. As he got in his carriage. 
Field Marshal von Fersen, who owned a vast stock 
farm on the Volga, shook his head sadly, saying, 
"What a pity you Americans don't keep your horses 
entire". Frequently on the drive the distinguished 
tourists uttered exclamations of delight at the grand 
scenery and prosperous looking farms, but they were 
kept laughing most of the way at the jokes and humor- 
ous anecdotes told them by Governor Curtin and' Cap- 
tain Dyce, both of whom had inherited inimitable wit 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 61 

from their Celtic ancestors. Arriving at the Penn's 
Cave Farm, the party was cordially received by Pro- 
prietor George Long and wife. Mr. Long was one 
of Governor Curtin's political admirers, consequently 
he whispered to his spouse to prepare the best dinner 
she knew how. While it was gotten ready, the party, 
kd by the proprietor, was taken through the cavern in 
a huge flatboat. The emotional Russians kept shout- 
ing with approbation, while Count Hickoff, who was a 
fine singer, woke the echoes with the Russian National 
Anthem. The visit to the dry cave v/as particularly 
edifying to all concerned. Count Hickoff collected a 
pocketful of bones and shells, while the hospitable pro- 
prietor Long broke off for him several of the choicest 
stalactites. "You say that this is Pennsylvania's great- 
est natural wonder?" said Baron de Toplitz-Herber- 
stain, as the party emerged into the warm sunlight; 
"but I say that there is nothing finer in Russia, or per- 
haps in the world". At these words Governor Curtin 
smiled, as he was an early believer in the theory of 
"seeing America first", and dearly loved his native 
Central Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvania country 
dinner served by Mrs. Long and her hand-maidens 
was fully up to the traditions of such a repast. It is 
stated that nine kinds of pie were on the table at one 
time. And each Russian sampled them all. Before 
going to the cave Governor Curtin had explained the 
"caste" system of Russia to the Longs, consequently 
only the three grandees, their secretaries, the Gov- 
ernor and Captain Dvce sat down to the "first table". 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



The Russians conversed with the Longs in High Ger- 
man, being repHed to in Pennsylvania Dutch. The 
rest of the party, including the drivers and the Long 
family, were at the second table, and there was 
a-plenty for all. After the dinner, which was equal 
to any Russian wedding feast, all averred, the party 
was driven back to Belief onte. After spending an- 
other night under Governor Curtin's hospital roof, 
the happy Russians departed for Altoona and Pitts- 
burg, loaded with letters of introduction from their 
host, to the car builders and steel magnate-^ whose 
works they wished to inspect. But in all their travels, 
interesting as they doubtless were, they hardly enjoy- 
ed themselves more than their trip to "Pennsylvania's 
greatest natural wonder", Penn's Cave. 




VIII. THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH 



OLD CHIEF WIvSAMEK, of the Kittochtinny In- 
dians, had lost his spouse. He was close to 
sixty years of age, which was old for a red man, 
especially one who had led the hard life of a warrior, 
exposed to all kind's of weather, fasts and forced 
marches. Though he felt terribly lonely and depressed 
in his state of widowerhood, the thought of discard- 
ing the fidehty of the eagle, which, if bereaved, never 
takes a second mate, and was the noble bird he wor- 
shiped was repugnant to him until he happened to 
see the fair and buxom maid Annapalpeteu. He was 
rheumatic, walking with difficulty; he tired easily, 
was fretful, all sure signs of increasing age ; but what 
upset him most was the sight of his reflection in his 
favorite pool, a haggard, weezened, wrinkled face, 
with a nose like the beak of an eagle, and eyes as 
colorless as clay. When he opened his mouth, the 
reflected image seemed to be mostly toothless, the lips 
were blue and thin. He had noticed that he did not 
need to shave his skull any more to give prominence 
to his warrior's top-knot; the proud tuft itself was 
growing sparse and weak ; to keep it erect he was now 
compelled to braid with it hair from the bullalo's tail. 
Brave warrior that he was, he hated to pay his court 
to the lovely Annapalpeteu when on all sides he saw 
stalwart six-foot youths, masses of sinews and 
muscle, clear-eyed, firm-lipped, always ambitious and 
high-spirited. But one afternoon he saw his copper- 

63 



64 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

colored love sitting by the side of the Bohundy 
Creek, beating maize in a wooden through. Her en- 
tire costume consisted of a tight petticoat of blue 
cloth, hardly reaching to the knees, and without any 
ruffles. Her cheeks and forehead were neatly daubed 
with red. She seemed very well content with her 
coadjutor, a bright young fellow, who, except for two 
wild cat hides appropriately distributed, was quite as 
naked as the ingenuous beauty. That Annapelpeteu 
had a cavalier was now certain, and immediately it 
rekindled what flames remained in his jaded body; he 
miust have her at any cost. Down by the Conadog- 
winet, across the Broad Mountains, lived Mbison, a 
wise man. Old Wisamek would go there and consult 
him, perhaps obtain from him some potion to perma- 
nently restore at least a few of the fires of his lost 
youth. Though his will-power had been appreciably 
slackening of late years, he acted with alacrity on the 
id'ea of visiting the soothsayer. Before sundown he 
was on his way to the south, accompanied by several 
faithful henchmen. Carrying a long ironwood staff, 
he moved on with unwonted agility ; it was very dark, 
and the path difficult to follow, when he finally con- 
sented to bivouac for the night. The next morning 
found him so stiff that he could hardly clamber to his 
feet. His henchmen assisted him, though they begged 
him to rest for a day. But his will forced him on ; 
he wanted' to be virile and win the beautiful Annapal- 
pateu. The journey, which consumed a week, cost the 
aged Strephon a world of effort. But as he had been 



PBNN'iS GRANDEST CAVERN 65 

indefatigable in his youth, he was determined to reach 
the wise man's headquarters walking like a warrior, 
and not carried there on a litter like an old' woman. 
Bravely he forged ahead, his aching joints paining 
miserably, until at length he came in sight of his 
Promised Land. The soothsayer, who had been ap- 
prised of his coming by a dream, was in front of his 
substantial lodge-house to greet him. Seldom had he 
received a more distinguished client than Wisamek, 
so he welcomed him with marked courtesy and defer- 
ence. After the first formalities, the old chief, who 
had restrained himself with difficulty, asked how he 
could be restored to a youthful condition so that he 
could rightfully marry a beautiful maiden of eighteen 
summers. The wise man, who had encountered simi- 
lar supplicants in the past, informed him that the task 
was a comparatively easy one. It would involve, how- 
ever, another journey across mountains. Wisamek 
shouted for joy when he heard these words and im- 
patiently demanded where he would have to go to be 
restored to youth. ''Across many high mountain 
ranges, across many broad valleys, across many swift 
streams, through a country covered with dark forests 
and filled with wild beasts, to the north-west of here 
is a wonderful cavern. In it rises a deep stream, of 
greenish color, clear as crystal, the fountain of youth. 
At its heading you Avill find a very old man, Gamunk, 
who knows the formula. Give him this talisman, and 
he will allow you to bathe in the marvelous waters, 
and be young again." With the final words he hand- 



G8 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

ed Wisamek a red bear's tooth, on which was clev- 
erly carved the form of an atldetic youth. The old 
chief's hands trembled so mucli that he almost drop- 
ped the precious fetich. But he soon recovered his 
self-control and thanked the wise man. Then he or- 
dered his henchman to give the soothsayer gifts, 
which they did, loading him with beads, pottery, 
wampum and rare furs. Despite the invitation tc 
remain until he was comipletely rested, Wisamek 
determined to depart at once for the fountain of 
youth. He was so stimulated by his high hope that 
he climbed the steep ridges, crossed the turbulent 
streams, and put up with the other inconveniences of 
the long march much Ijetter tian might have been the 
case. During the entire journey he sang Indian love 
songs, strains which had not passed his lips in thirty 
years. His- followers, gossiping among themselves, 
declared that he looked better already. Perhaps he 
would not have to batlie in the fountain after all. He 
might resume his youth, because he willed it so. 
Indians were strong believers in the power of mind 
over matter. When he reached the vicinity of the cave 
he was fortunate enough to meet the aged Indian who 
was its guardian. Though his hair was snow white, 
and he said he was so old that he had lost count of the 
years, Gamunk's carriage was erect, his complexion 
smooth, his eyes clear and kindly. He walked along 
with a swinging stride, very different from Wisamek's 
mental picture of him. The would-be bridegroom, 
who handed him the talisman, was quick to impart 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 67 

liis mission to his new-found friend. "It is true", 
he rephied ; "after a day and a night's immersion in 
the cave's water you will emerge with all the appear- 
ance of youth. There is absolutely no doubt of it. 
Thousands have been here before". With these re- 
assuring words Wisamek again leaped for joy, gyrat- 
ing like a young brave at a cantico. The party, ac- 
companied by the old guardian, quickly arrived at 
the cave's main opening, where beneath them lay 
stretched the calm, mirror-like expanse of greenish 
water. Can I begin the bath now" ? asked the chief, 
impatiently. *'I am anxious to throw off the odious 
appearance of age". "Immediately", replied the old 
watchman, who took him by the hand, leading him to 
the ledge w^here it was highest above the water. 
"Jump off here", he said quietly. Wisamek, who had 
been a great swimmer in his youth and was absolutely 
fearless of the water, replied that he would do so. 
"But remember you must remain in the water without 
food until this hour tomorrow", said the guardian. 
As he leaped into the water depths the chief shouted 
he would remain twice as long if he could be young 
again. Wisamek was true to his instructions ; there 
was too much at stake ; he dared not falter. The next 
morning his henchmen were at the cave's mouth to 
greet his reappearance. They were startled to see, 
climbing up the ledge with alacrity a tall and hand- 
some man, as young looking as theni.selves. There 
was a smlile on the full red lips, a twinkle in the clear 
eye of the re-made warrior as he stood among them, 



68 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

physically a prince among men. The homeward jour- 
ney was made with rapidity. Wisamek traveled so 
fast that he played out his henchmen who were half 
his age. Annapalpeteu, who was seated in front of 
her parents' cabin, weaving a garment, noticed a 
youth of great physical beauty approaching, at the 
head of Chief Wisamek's clansmen. She wondered 
who he could be, as he wore Wisamek's headdress 
of feathers of the sea eagle. When he drew near he 
saluted her, and, not giving her time to answer, joy- 
fully shouted, ''Don't you recognize me? I am your 
good friend Wisamek, come back to win your love, 
after a refreshing journey through the distant for- 
ests". Annapalpeteu, who was a sensible enough girl 
to have admired the great warrior for his prowess, 
even though she had never thought of him seriously 
as a lover, was now instantly smitten by his engaging 
appearance. The henchmen withdrew, leaving the 
couple together. They made marked progress with 
their romance ; words of love were mentioned before 
they parted. It was not long before the betrothal was 
announced, followed shortly by the wedding festival. 
At the nuptials the bridegroom's appearance was the 
marvel of all present. It was hinted that he had been 
somewhere and renewed his youth, but as the hench- 
men were sworn to secrecy, how it had been done was 
not revealed. The young bride seemed radiantly 
happy. She had every reason to be ; the other Indian 
maids whispered from lip to lip, was she not marrying 
the greatest warrior and hunter of his generation, the 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 69 

handsomest man in a hundred tribes? Secretly en- 
yied by all of her age, possessing her stalwart prize, 
the fair bride started on her honeymoon, showered 
with acorns and good wishes. So far as is known the 
wedding trip passed off blissfully. There were smiles 
on the bright faces of both bride and groom when 
they returned to their spacious new lodge-house, which 
the tribe had erected for them in their absence, by the 
banks of the rippling Bohundy. But the course of life 
did not run smoothly for the pair. Though outwardly 
Wisamek was the handsomest and most youthful 
looking of men, he was still an old man at heart. 
Annapalpeteu was as pleasure-loving as she was beau- 
tiful. She wanted to dance and sing and mingle with 
youthful company. She wanted her good time in life; 
Jier joy of living was at its height, her sense of enjoy- 
ment at its zenith. On the other hand, Wisamek 
hated all. forms of gaieties or youthful amusements. 
He wanted to sit about the lodge-house in the sun, 
telling of his warlike triumphs of other ' days ; he 
wanted to sleep much, he hated noise and excitement. 
Annapalpeteu, dutiful wife that she was, tried to 
please him, but in due course of time both husband 
and wife realized that romance was dying, that they 
were drifting apart. Wisamek was even more aware 
of it than his wife. It worried him greatly, his 
dreams were of an unhappy nature. He pictured the 
end of it all, with his wife, Annapalpeteu, in love with 
some one else of her own age, some one whose heart 
was young. He had spells of moodiness and irrita- 



70 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

bilty, as well as several serious quarrels with his wife, 
whom he accused of caring less for him than formerly. 
The relations became so strained that life in the com- 
modious lodge-house was unbearable. At length it 
occurifed to' Wisamek that he might again visit the 
fountain of youth, this time to revive his soul. Per- 
haps he had not remained in the water long enough to 
touch the spirit within. He informed his spouse that 
he was going on a long journey, on invitation of the 
chief of a distant tribe, and that she must accompany 
him. He was insanely jealous of her now; he could 
not bear her out of his sight. He imagined she liad a 
young lover hiding back of every tree, though she was; 
honor personified. The trip was made pleasantly 
enough, as the husband was in better spirits than 
usual. He thought he saw the surcease of his troubles 
ahead of him! When he reached the Beaver Dam 
Meadows, near the sit of the present town of Spring 
Mills, beautiful level flats which in those days were 
a favorite camping ground for the red men, he re- 
quested the beautiful Annapalpeteu to remain there 
for a few days, that he was going into a hostile coun- 
try, he would not jeopardize her safety. He was going 
on an important mission that would make her love him 
more than ever when he returned. In reality no un- 
friendly Indians were about, but in order to give a 
look of truth to his story, he left her in charge of a 
strong bodyguard. Wisamek's conduct of late had 
been so peculiar that his wife was not sorry to see 
her lord and master go away. Handsome though he 



1 


r 


__, : 


m. 




i ^^ 


i 







PENN'9 GRANDEST GAVERN 71 

was, a spiritual barrier had arisen between them 
which grew more insurmountable with each succeed- 
ing day. Yet, on this occasion, when he was out of 
her sight, she felt apprehensive about him. She had 
a strange presentment that she would never see him 
again. Wisamek was filled with hopes; his spirits 
had never been higher, as he strode along, followed 
by his henchmen. When he reached the top of the 
path which led to the mouth of the cave he met old 
Gamunkj the guardian. The aged red man expressed 
surprise at seeing him again. "I have come for a very 
peculiar reason", he said. "The bath which I took last 
year outwardly made me young, but only outwardly. 
Within I am as withered and joyless as a centenarian. 
I want to bathe once more, to try to revive the old light 
in my soul". Gamunk shook his head. ''You may 
succeed; I hope you will. I never heard of any one 
daring to take a second bath in these waters. The 
tradition of the hereditary guardians, of whom I am 
the hundredth in direct succession, has it that it would 
be fatal to take a second immersion, especially to re- 
main in the water for twenty-four hours". Then he 
asked Wisamek for the talisman which was the right 
to bathe. Wisamek drew himself up proudly, and with 
a gesture of his hand, indicating disdain, said he had 
no talisman, that he would bathe anyhow. He ad- 
vanced to the brink and plunged in. Until the same 
hour the next day he floated and paddled about the 
greenisli depths, filled with expectancy. For some 
reason it seemed longer this time than on the previous 



72 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

visit.. At last, by the light which filtered down through 
the treetops at the cave's mouth, he knew that the 
hour had come for him to emerge — emerge as Chief 
Wisamek — young in heart as in body. Proudly he 
grasped the rocky ledge, and swung himself out on 
dry land. He arose to his feet. His head seemed very 
light and giddy. He fancied he saw visions of his old 
conquests, old loves. There was the sound of music in 
the air. Was it martial music, played to welcome the 
conquerer, or the wind surging through the feathery 
tops of the maple and linden trees at the mouth of the 
cave? He started to climb the steep path. He seemed 
to be treading on air. Was it the buoyant steps of 
youth come again? He seemed to float rather than 
walk. The sunlight blinded his eyes. Suddenly he 
had a flash of normal consciousness. He dropped to 
the ground with a thud like an old pine falling. Then 
all was blackness, silence. Jaybirds complaining in 
the tres alone broke the stillness. His bodyguards, 
who were waiting for him at old Gamunk's lodge- 
house, close to where the hotel now stands, became 
impatient at his non-appearance, as the hour was past. 
Accompanied by the venerable watchman, they started 
down the path. To their horror they saw the dead 
body of a hideous, wrinkled old man, all skin and 
bones, lying stretched out across it, a few steps 
from the entrance to the cave. When they approached 
closely they noticed several familiar tattoo marks which 
identified the body as that of their late master, Wisa- 
mek. Frightened lest they would be accused of his 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



73 



murder, and shocked by his altered appearance, the 
bodyguards turned and took to their heels. They dis- 
appeared in the trackless forests to the north and were 
never seen again. Old Gamunk, out of pity for the 
vainglorious chieftain, buried the remains by the path 
near where he fell. As for poor Annapalpeteu, the 
beautiful, she waited patiently for many days by the 
Beaver Dams, but her waiting was in vain. At length, 
concluding that he had been slain in battle in some 
valorous encounter, she started for her old home on 
the Bohundy. It is related that in due course of time 
she married a warrior of her own age, living happily 
ever afterwards. In him she found the loving re- 
sponse, the congeniality of pleasures which had been 
denied the dried, feeble soul of Wisamek, who bathed 
once too often in the fountain of youth. 




IX. RIDING HIS PONY 



WHEN Rev. James Martin visited Penn's Cave, 
in the Spring of 1795, it was related that he 
found a small group of Indians encamped 
there. That evening, around the campfire, one of the 
redskins related a legend of one of the curiosities of 
the watery cave, the flamboyant ''Indian Riding Pony" 
mural-piece which decorates one of the walls. Spirit- 
ed as a Remington, it bursts upon the view, creates a 
lasting impression, then vanishes as the power skiff, 
the "Nita-nee", draws nearer. According to the old 
Indians, there lived not far from where the Karoon- 
dinha emerges from the cavern a body of savages who 
made this delightful lowland their permanent abode. 
While most of their cabins were huddled near togethe'r 
on the upper reaches of the stream, there were strag- 
gling huts clear to the Beaver Dams. The finding of 
arrow points, beads and pottery along the creek amply 
attests to this. Among the clan was a maiden named 
Quetajaku, not good to look upon, but in no way ugly 
or deformed. In her youth she was light-hearted and 
sociable, with a gentle disposition. Yet for some rea- 
son she was not favored by the young bucks. All her 
contemporaries found lovers and husbands, but poor 
Quetajaku was left severely alone. She knew that she 
was not beautiful, though she was of good size ; she 
was equally certain that she was not a physical mon- 
ster. She could not understand why she could find 
no lover, why she was singled out to be a "chauch- 

74 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 75 

schisis", or old maid. It hurt her pride as a young girl, 
it broke her heart completely when she was older. 
Gradually she withdrew from the society of her tribal 
friends, building herself a lodge-house on the hill, in 
what is now the cave orchard. There she led a very 
introspective life, grieving over the love that might 
have been. To console herself she imagined that somie 
day a handsome warrior would appear, seek her out, 
load her with gifts, overwhelm her with love, and 
carry her away to some distant region in triumph. He 
would be handsomer and -braver than any youth in the 
whole country of the Karoondinha. She would be the 
most envied of women when he came. This poor little 
fancy saved her from going stark mad, it remedied the 
her of her lonely lot. Every time the night wind 
stirred the rude cloth which hung before the door of 
her cabin, she would picture it was the chivalrous 
stranger come to claim her. When it was cold she 
drew the folds of her buffalo robe tighter about her as 
if it was his arms. As time went on she grew happy 
in her secret lover, whom no other woman's flame 
could equal, whom no one could steal away. She was 
ever imagining him saying to her that her looks ex- 
actly suited him, that se was his ideal. But like the 
seeker after Eldorado, years passed, and Quetajaku 
did not come nearer to her spirit lover. But her soul 
kept up the conceit ; every night when she curled her- 
self up to sleep he was the vastness of the night. On 
one occasion an Indian artist named Niganit, an under- 
sized old wanderer, appeared at the lonely woman's 



76 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

home. For a living he decorated pottery, shells and 
bones, sometimes even painted war pictures on rocks. 
Quetajaku was so kind to him that he built himself a 
lean-to on the slope of the hill, intending to spend the 
winter. On the long winter evenings the long woman 
confided to the wanderer the story of her unhappy life, 
of her inward consolation. She said that she had 
longed to meet an artist who coul carry out a certain 
part of her dream which had a right to come true. 
When she died she had' arranged to be buried in a 
fissure of rocks which ran horizontally into one of the 
walls of the ''watery" cave. On the opposite wall she 
would like painted in the most brilliant colors a por- 
trait of a handsome young warrior, with arms out- 
stretched, coming towards her. Niganit said that he 
understood what she meant exactly, but suggested that 
the youth be mounted on a pony, a beast which was 
coming into use as a mount for warriors, of which he 
had lately seen a num'ber in his travels on the Virginia 
coast* The idea was pleasing to Quetajaku, who 
authorized the stranger to begin work at once. She 
had saved up a little property of various kinds ; she 
promised to bestow all of this on Niganit, except 
what would be necessary to bury her, if the picture 
proved satisfactory. The artist rigged up a dog-raft 
with a scaffold on it, and this he poled into the place 
where the fissure was located, the woman accompany- 
ing him the first time, so there would be no mistake. 
All winter long by torchlight he labored away. H'e 
used only one color, an intensive brick-red made from 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 77 



mixing sumac, a kind of seed, a small root and the 
bark of a tree, as l)eing more permanent than that 
made from ochers and other ores or stained earth. 
Marvelous and vital was the result of this early im- 
pressionist ; the painting had all the action of life. 
The superb youth in war dress, with arms outstretch-' 
ed, on the agile war pony, was rushing towards the 
foreground, almost in the act of leaping from the 
rocky panel into life, across the w^aters of the cave to 
the arms of his beloved. It would make old Oueta- 
jaku happy to see it, she who had never known love or 
beauty. The youth in the mural typified what Niganit 
would have been himself were he the chosen, and what 
the old squaw would have possessed had nature 
favored her. It was the ideal for two disappointed 
souls. Breathlessly the old artist ferried Quetajaku 
to the scene of his endeavors. When they reached 
the proper spot he held aloft his quavering torch. 
Quetajaku, in order to see more clearly, held her two 
hands above her eyes. She gave a little cry of ex- 
clamation, tlien turned and looked at Niganit intently. 
Then she dropped her eyes, beginning to cry to her- 
self. The artist looked at her fine face, down w^hich 
the tears were streaming, and asked her the cause 
of her grief — was the picture such a terrible disap- 
pointment? The woman drew herself together, reply- 
ing that it was grander than she had anticipated, but 
the face was Niganit's, and strangely enough, was the 
face she had dreamed of all her life. "But I am 
not the heroic youtli you ])iclurcd", said the artist, 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



sadly. "I am sixty years old, stoop-shouldered, and 
one leg is shorter than the other". "But that is how 
you would look on your war pony; it is your face, 
shoulders and arms. You are the picture that I always 
hoped would come true". Niganit looked at the Indian 
woman. She was not hideous; there was even a dig- 
nity to her large, plain features, her great, gaunt form. 
"I have never received praise such as yours. I always 
vowed I would love the woman who really understood 
me and my art. I am yours. Let us think no more 
of funeral decorations, but go to the east, to the land 
of the war ponies, and ride to endless joy together". 
Quetajaku, overcome by the majesty of his words, 
leaned against his massive shoulder. In that way he 
poled his dog-raft against the current to the entrance 
of the cave. There was a glory in the reflection from 
the setting sun over against the east; night would 
not set in for an hour or two. And towards the dark- 
ening east that night two happy travelers could be 
seen wending their way. 




NITA-NEE 



The Indian Maiden for Whom Nittany Mountain Is 
Named 



(Reprinted from "Juniata Memories". Philadelphia, 1916) 
(Copyrighted by J. J. McVey. Publisher) 

OXE of tlie last Indians to wander through the 
Juniata X^alley, either to revive old memories or 
merely to hunt and traj), his controlling motive 
is not certain, was old Jake Faddy. As he was sup- 
posed to belong to the Seneca tribe, and spent most of 
his time on the Coudersport Pike on the border line 
between Clinton and Potter Counties, it is to be sur- 
mised that he never lived permanently on the Juniata, 
but had hunted there or participated in the bloody 
wars in the days of his youth. He continued his visits 
until he reached a very advanced age. Of a younger 
generation that Shaney John, he was nevertheless well 
acquainted with that unique old redman, and always 
spent a couple of weeks with him at his cabin on Sad- 
dler's Run. 

Old Jake, partly to earn his board and partly to 
show his superior knowledge, was a gifted story teller. 
He liked to obtain the chance to spend the night at 
farmhouses where there were aged people, and his 
smatering of history would be fully utilized to put the 
older folks in good humor. 

For while the hard-working younger generations 
fancied that history was a waste of time, the old people 

79 



80 PENNS GRANDEST CAVERN 



loved it. and' fought against the cruel way in which all 
local tradition and legend was being snuffed out. If 
it had not been for a few people carrying it over the 
past generation, all of it would not be lost in the whirl- 
pool of a commercial, materialistic age. And to those 
few, unknown to fame, and of obscure life and resi- 
dence, is due the credit of saving for us the wealth of 
folklore that the noble mountains, the dark forests, the 
wars and the Indians, instilled in the minds of the first 
settlers. And there is no old' man or woman living in 
the wilderness who is without a story that is ready to 
be imparted, and worthy of preservation. But the 
question remains, how can these old people all l)e 
reached before they pass away? It would take an 
army of collectors, working simultaneously, as the 
Grim Reaper is hard at work removing these human 
landmarks with their untold stories. 

Out near the heading of Beaver Dam Run, at the 
foot of Jack's Mountain, stands a very solid-looking 
stone farmhouse, a relic of pioneer days. Its earliest 
inhabitants had run counter to the Indians of the 
neighborhood for the possession of the beavers whose 
dens and' ''cabins" were its miost noticeable feature 
clear to the mouth of the stream, and later for the 
otters who defied the white annihilators a quarter of 
a century longer. Beaver trapping had made the 
stream a favorite rendezvous for the red men, and 
their campgrounds at the springs near the headwaters 
were pointed out until a comparatively recent date. 

But one by one the aborigines dropped away, until 



PBNN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 81 

Jake Faddy alone upheld the traditions of the race. 
There were no beavers to quarrels over in his day, 
consequently his visits were on a more friendly basis. 
The old North of Ireland family who occupied the 
stone farmhouse was closely linked with the history of 
the Juniata Valley, and they felt the thrill of the vivid 
past whenever the old Indian appeared at the kitchen 
door. As he was ever ready to work and, what was 
better, a very useful man at gardening and flowers, he 
was always given his meals and lodging for as long as 
he cared to remain. But that was not very long, as 
his restless nature was ever goading him on, and he 
had ''many other friends to see", putting it in his own 
language. He seemed proud to have it known that he 
was popular with a good class of white people, and his 
ruling passion may have been to cultivate these asso- 
ciations. On several occasions he brought some of his 
sons with him, but they did not seem anxious to live 
up to their father's standards. And after the old man 
had passed away none of this younger generation ever 
came to the Juniata Valley. 

The past seemed like the present to Jake Faddy, 
he was so familiar with it. To him it was as if it hap- 
pened yesterday, the vast formations and changes and 
epochs. And the Indian race, especially the eastern 
Indians, seemed to have played the most important 
part in those titanic days. It seemed so recent and so 
real to the old redman that his stories were always in- 
teresting. The children also were fond of hearing 
him talk ; he had a way of never becoming tiresome. 



82 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

Every young person who heard him rennembered what 
he said. There would have been no break in the 
"apostohc succession" of Pennsylvania legendary lore 
if all had' been seated at Jake Paddy's knee. 

Of all his stories, by odds his favorite one, dealt 
with the Indian maiden, Nita-nee, for whom the fruit- 
ful Nittany Valley and the towering Nittany Moun- 
tain are named. This Indian girl was born on the 
banks of the lovely Juniata, not far from the present 
town of Newton Hamilton, the daughter of a power- 
ful chief. It was in the early days of the world, 
when the physical aspect of Nature could be changed 
over night by a hat from the Gitchie-Manitto or 
Great Spirit. It was, therefore, in the age of great 
and wonderful things, before a rigid world produced 
beings whose lives followed' grooves as tight and per- 
manent as the gullies and ridges. 

During the early life of Nita-nee a great war was 
waged for the possession of the Juniata Valley. 'The 
aggressors were Indians from the South, who longed 
for the scope and fertility of this earthly Paradise. 
Though Nita-nee's father and his brave cohorts de- 
fended their beloved land to the last extremity, they 
were driven northward into the Seven Mountains and 
beyond. Though they found themselves in beautiful 
valleys, filled with bubbling springs and' teeming with 
game, they missed the Blue Juniata, and were never 
wholly content. The father of Nita-nee, who was 
named Chun-Eh-Hoe, felt so humiliated that he only 
went about after night in his new home. He took 




WHERE REV. MARTIN WROTE HIS SERMONS 
(Musser Farm, near Penn Hall) 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 83 

Up his residence on a broad plain, not far from where 
State College now stands, and should be the Indian 
patron of that growing institution, instead of Chief 
Bald Eagle, who never lived near there and whose 
good deeds are for outweighed by his crimes. 

Chun-Rh-Hoe was an Indian of exact conscience. 
He did his best in tlie cruel war, but the southern In- 
dians must have had more sagacious leaders or a bet- 
ter esprit de corps. At any rate they conquered. 
Chun-Eh-Hoe was not an old man at the time of his 
defeat, but it is related that his raven black locks turn- 
ed white over night. He was broken in spirit after 
his downfall and only lived a few years in his new 
home His widow, as well as his daughter, Nita-nee, 
and many other children, were left to mourn him. As 
Nita-nee was the oldest, she assumed a vicereineship 
over the tribe until her young brother, Wo-Wi-Na- 
Pie, should be old enough to rule the councils and go 
on the warpath. 

The defeat on the Juniata, the exile to the northern 
valleys and the premature death of Chun-Eh-Hoe 
were to be avenged. Active days were ahead of the 
tribesmen. Meanwhile if the southern Indians cross- 
ed the mountains to still further covet their lands and 
liberties, who should lead them to battle but Nita-nee. 
But the Indian vicereine was of a peace-loving dis- 
position. She hoped that the time would never come 
when she would have to preside over scenes of car- 
nage and slaughter. She wanted to see her late fath- 
er's tribe become the most cultured and prosperous in 



84 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



the Indian world, and in that way be revenged on 
their warhke foes: "Peace hath its victories". 

But slie was not to be destined to lead a peaceful 
nation through years of upward growth. In the 
Juniata Valley the southern Indians had become over- 
populated ; they sought broader territories, like the 
Germans of today. They had driven the present oc- 
cupants of the northern valleys out of the Juniata 
country, they wanted to again drive them further 
north. 

Nita-nee did not want war, but the time came when 
she could not prevent it. The southern Indians sought 
to provoke a conflict by making settlements in the Bare 
Meadows, and in some fertile patches on Tussey Knob 
and Bald Top, all of which were countenanced in 
silence. But when they murdered some peaceable 
farmers and took possession of plantations at the foot 
of the mountains in the valley of the Karoondinha, 
the the mildness of Nita-nee's cohorts came to an 
end. Meanwhile her mother and brother had died; 
Nita-nee had been elected queen. 

Every man and boy volunteered to fight ; a huge 
army was recruited over night. They swept down 
to the settlements of the southern Indians, butchering 
every one of them. They pressed onward to the Bare 
Meadows, and to the slopes of Bald Top and Tussey 
Knob. There they gave up the population to fire and 
sword. Crossing the Seven Mountains, they formed 
a powerful cordon all along the southerly slope of the 
. Long Mountain. Building block houses and stone 



PENN'3 GRANDEST CAVERN 8& 

fortifications — some of the stonework can be seen to 
this day — they could not be easily dislodged. 

The southern Indians, noticing the flames of the 
burning plantations, and hearing from the one or two 
survivors of the completeness of the route, were slow 
to start an offensive movement. But as Nita-nee's 
forces showed no signs of advancing beyond the foot 
of Long Mountain, they mistook this hesitancy for 
cowardice, and sent an attacking army. It was com- 
pletely defeated in the gorge of Laurel Run, above 
Milroy, and one the slope of Sample Knob, the right 
of the northern Indians to the Karoondinha and the 
adjacent valleys was signed, sealed and delivered in 
blood. The southern Indians were in turn driven out 
by other tribes : in fact, every half century or so a 
different race ruled over the Juniata Valley. But in 
all those years none of the Juniata rulers sought to 
question the rights of the northern Indians until 1635, 
when the Lenni-Lenape invaded the countrv of the 
Susquehannocks and were decisively beaten on the 
plains near Rock Spring, in Spruce Creek \'alley, at 
the Battle of the Indian Steps. (This battle has been 
described in stirring verse by Central Pennsylvania's 
bard, John H. Chatham, ''The Indian Steps", Altoona, 
1913.) 

As Nita-nee wanted no territorial accessions, she 
left the garrisons at her southerly forts intact, and re- 
tired her main army to its home valleys, where it was 
disbanded as quickly as it came together. All were 
glad to be back to peaceful avocations, none of them 



86 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

ciavcd glory in war. And there were no honors given 
out, no great generals created. All served as private 
soldiers under the direct supervision of their queen. It 
was the theory of this Joan of Arc that by eliminating 
titles and important posts there would be no military 
class created, no ulterior motives assisted except pa- 
triotism. The soldiers serving anonymously, and for 
their country's need alone, would be really to end their 
military duties as soon as their patriotic task was done. 
Nita-nee regarded soldiering as a stern necessity, 
not as an excuse for pleasure or pillage, or personal 
advancement. Under her there was no nobility, all 
were on a common level of dignified citizenship. 
Every Indian in her realm had a task, not one that 
he was born to follow, but the one which appealed to 
him mostly, and therefore the task at which he was 
most successful. Women also had their work, apart 
from domestic life in this ideal democracy of ancient 
days. Suffrage was universal to both sexes over 
twenty years of age, but as there were no official posi- 
tions, no public trusts, a political class could not come 
into existence, and the queen, as long as she was can- 
ning and able, had the unanimous support of her peo- 
ple. She was given a great ovation as she modestly 
walked along the fighting line after the winning battle 
of Laurel Run. It made her feel not that she was 
great, but that the democracy of her father and her 
ancestors was a living force. In those days of pure 
democracy the rulers walked ; the litters and plana- 
quins were a later development. 



PBNN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 87 

After the conflict the gentle Nita-nee, at the head 
of the soon to be disbanded army, marched across the 
Seven Brothers and westerly toward her permanent 
encampment, where State College now stands. As 
her only trophy she carried a bundle of spears, which 
her brave henchmen had wrenched from the hands of 
the southern Indians as they charged the forts along 
Long Mountain. These were not to deck her own 
lodge house, nor for vain display, but were to be 
placed on the grave of her father, the lamented Chun- 
Eh-Hoe, who had been avenged. In her heart she 
had hoped for victory, almost as much for his sake as 
for the comfort of her people. She knew how he had 
grieved himself to death when he was outgeneraled 
in the previous war. 

In those dimly remote days there was no range of 
mountains where the Nittany chain now raise their 
noble summits to the sky. All was a plain, a prairie, 
clear north to the Bald Eagles, which only recently 
had come into existence. The tradition was that far 
older than all the other hills were the Seven Moun- 
tains. And geological speculations seems to bear this 
out. At all seasons of the year cruel and chilling 
winds blew out of the north, hinderino^ the work of 
agriculture on the broad plains ruled over by Nita-nee. 
Only the strong and the brave could cope with these 
killing blasts, so intense and so dififerent from the calm- 
ing zephyrs of the Juniata. The seasons for this 
cause were several weeks shorter than across the 
Seven Mountains ; that is, there was a later Spring 



88 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

and an earlier Fall. Ikit though the work was harder, 
the soil being equally rich and broader area, the crops 
averaged' fully as large as those further south. So, 
taken altogether, the people of Nita-nee could not be 
said to be an unhappy aggregation. 

As the victorious queen was marching along at the 
head of her troops, she was frequently almost mobbed 
by women and children, who rushed out from the 
settlements and made her all manner of gifts. As it 
was in the early Spring, there were no floral garlands, 
but instead wreaths and festoons of laurel, of ground 
pine and ground spruce. There were gifts of precious 
stones and metals, of rare furs, of beautiful speci- 
mens of Indian pottery basketry and the like. These 
were graciously acknowledged by Nita-nee, who turn- 
ed them over to her bodyguards to be carried to her 
permanent abode on the "Barrens". But it was not a 
''barrens" in those days, but a rich agricultural region, 
carefully irrigated from the north, and yielding the 
most bountiful crops of Indian corn. It was only 
when abandoned by the frugal redmen and grown up 
with forest which burned over repeatedly through the 
carelessness of the white settlers that it acquired that 
disagreeable name. In those d'avs it was known as the 
"Hills of Plenty". 

As Nita-nee nearcd the scenes of her happy days 
she was stopped in tlie middle of the path by an aged 
Indian couple. Leaning on staffs in order to present 
a dignified appearance, it was easily seen that age had 
bent them nearlv double. Their weazened, weather- 



PJ^lSTN'vS GRANDEST CAVERN 89 

beaten old faces were pitiful to behold. Toothless, 
and barely able to speak above a whisper, they ad- 
dressed' the gracious queen. 

•*We are very old", they began. ''The Winters of 
more than a century have passed over our heads. Our 
sons and our grandsons were killed fighting bravely 
under your immortal sire, Chun-Eh-Hoe. We have 
had to struggle on by ourselves as best we could ever 
since. We are aljout to set out a crop of corn, which 
we need badly. For the past three years the north 
wind has destroyed our crop every time it appeared ; 
the seeds which we plan to put in the earth this year 
are the last we've got. Really we should have kept 
them for food, but we hoped' that the future would 
treat us more generously. We would like a wind- 
break built along the northern side of our corn patch ; 
we are too feeble to go to the forests and cut and carry 
the poles. W'ill not our most kindly queen have some 
one assist us'" ? 

Nita-nee smiled on the aged couple, then she looked 
at her army of aljle-bodied warriors. 

Turning to them, she said: "Soldiers, will a hun- 
dred of you go to the nearest royal forest, which is in 
the center of this plain, and cut enough cedar ])oles 
with brush on them to build a wind-break for these 
good people"? 

Instantly a roar arose, a perfect babel of voices ; it 
was every soldier trying to volunteer for this philan- 
thropic task. 

When quiet was restored, a warrior stepped out 



90 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

from the lines saying, "Queen, we are very happy to 
do this, we who have Hved in this valley know full 
well how all suffer from the uncheckable north winds". 

The queen escorted the old couple back to their 
humble cottage, and sat with them until her stalwart 
braves returned with the green-tipped poles. It looked 
like another Birnam Wood in process of locomotion. 
The work was so quickly and so carefully done that it 
semed almost like a miracle to the wretched old In- 
dians. They fell on their knees, kissing the hem of 
their queen's garment and thanking her for her benefi- 
cence. She could hardly leave them, so profuse were 
.they in their gratitude. In all but a few hours w^ere 
consumed in granting what to her was a simple favor, 
and she was safe and sound within her royal lodge 
house by dark. Before she left she had promised to 
return when the corn crop was ripe and partake of a 
corn roast with the venerable couple. The old people 
hardly dared hope she would come, but those about 
her knew that her word was as good as her bond. 
That night bonfires were lighted to celebrate her re- 
turn, and there was much Indian music and revelry. 

Nita-nee was compelled to address the frenzied 
mob, and in her speech she told them that while they 
had won a victory, she hoped it would be the last 
while she lived; she hated war, but would give her life 
rather than have her people invaded. All she asked 
in this w^orld w^as peace wnth honor. That expressed 
the sentiment of her people exactly, and they literally 
went mad with loyalty and enthusiasm for the balance 



PEN'N'S GRANDEST CAVERN 91 

of the night. Naturally with such an uproar there 
was no sleep for Nita-nee. 

As she lay awake on her couch she thought that far 
sweeter than victory or eathly fame was the helping 
of others, the smoothing of rough pathways for the 
weak or oppressed. She resolved more than ever to 
dedicate her life to the benefiting of her subjects. No 
love affair had come into her life, she would use her 
great love-nature to put brightness into unhappy souls 
about her. And she got up the next morning much 
more refreshed than she could have after a night of 
sleep surcharged with dreams of victory and glory. 

As the summer progressed, and the corn crop in the 
valleys became ripe, the queen sent an orderly to notify 
the aged couple that she would come to their home 
alone the next evening for the promised corn roast. It 
was a wonderful calm, cloudless night, with the full 
moon shedding its effulgent smile over the plain. Un- 
accohipanied, except by her orderly, Nita-nee walked 
to the modest cabin of the aged couple, a distance of 
about five miles, for the cottage stood not far from the 
present village of Linden Hall. Evidently the wind- 
break had been a success, for, bathed in moonlight, 
the tasseled heads of the cornstalks appeared above 
the tops of the cedar hedge. Smoke was issuing from 
the open hearth back of the hut, which showed that 
the roast was being prepared. The aged couple were 
delighted to see her, and the evening passed by, bring- 
ing innocent and supreme happiness to all. And thus 
in broad unselfishness and' .generosity of thought and 



92 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 

deed the great queen's life was spent, making her 
pathway through her reahii radiant with sunshine. 

And when she came to die, after a fuh century of 
hfe, she requested that her body be laid to rest in the 
royal forest, in the center of the valley whose people 
she loved and served so well. Her funeral cortege, 
which included every person in the plains and valleys, 
a vast assemblage, shook with a common grief. It 
would be hard to find a successor like her, a pure 
soul so deeply animated with true godliness. 

And it came to pass that on the night when she 
was buried beneath a modest mound covered with 
cedar boughs, and the vast funeral party had dis- 
persed, a terrific storm arose, greater than even the 
oldest person could remember. The blackness of the 
night was intense, the roar and rumbling heard made 
every being fear that the end of the world had com.e. 
It was a night of intense terror, of horror. But at 
dawn, the tempest abated, only a gentle breeze rernain- 
ed, a golden sunlight overspread the scene, and great 
was the wonder thereof ! In the center of the vast 
plain where Nita-nee had been laid away stood a 
mound-like mountain, a towering, sylvan giant cov- 
ered with dense groves of cedar and pine. And as it 
stood there, eternal, it temlpered' and broke the breezes 
from the north, promising a new prosperity, a greater 
tranquility, to the peaceful dwellers in the newly- 
created vale that has since been called the Valley of 
the Karoondinha. 

A miracle, a sign of approval from the Great Spirit, 



PEISTN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 



93 



had happened during the night to forever keep ahve 
the memory of Nita-nee, who had tempered the winds 
from the corn patch of the aged, helpless couple years 
before. And the dwellers in the valleys adjacent to 
the new protected Valley of the Karoondinha awoke 
to a greater pride in themselves, a high ideal must 
l^e observed, since they were the special objects of 
celestial notice. 

And the name of Nita-nee was the favorite cogno- 
men for Indian maidens, and has been borne by many 
of saintly and useful life ever since, and none of these 
namesakes were more deserving than the Nita-nee who 
lived centuries later near the mouth of Penn's Cave, 
the daughter of Chief O-Ko-Cho. 




XI. A VISIT TO HOWE'S CAVE, NEW 
YORK, 1919 



NOW is the time to visit caves ! Take this straight 
from one who knows. Do not delay, as you 
may be too late. Already the quarries have 
made a sorry mess of the wierd and romantic 
Naginey Cave, in Mifflin County, that Edgar Allan 
Poe once visited, so tradition ha-; it ; they have com- 
pletely annihilated the world-famed Howe's Cave, in 
Schoharie County, New York. It was with high 
hopes that the writer planned a trip to Howe's Cave 
this Summer. He had wanted to visit it ever since, 
years ago, he saw an old lithograph showing Horace 
Greeley's visit to the cave during his Presidential cam- 
paign in 1872. The great editor, in his familiar wade- 
awake hat and linen duster, was surrounded by a 
group of black-bearded dignitaries, rendered still more 
impressive by flat-brimmed beaver hats and flowing 
Price Albert coats. Several ladies, with the cherry- 
box hats and cashmere shawls of the period, stood 
peering into the yawning chasm's mouth. From the 
caption below Greeley was evidently of the opinion 
that Howe's Cave was the eighth wonder of the world. 
Sic transit gloria mundi! Today all is changed. There 
is no Howe's Cave, properly speaking, though the 
name still lives on in the railway station and the post 
ofiice. The Hun is King. The Helderberg Cement 
Company, its name so suggestive of ruthless de- 

94 



PENN'S G'RANiDEST CAVERN 95 



structiveness, set off a blast which caused' the vaulted 
stalactited roof to fall in, creating chaos and forever 
shutting out the public from the mysterious depths 
and labyrinths of this famous cavern. At least so we 
were told by an employe of the Cement Company who, 
in a reminiscent mood, recounted the stories of the 
cave's former popularity before the ruthless cement 
buns took charge and blasted away what took God a 
million years to make, in five fell second's ! The hand- 
some limestone hotel, with its high Mansart roof, 
which in its day harbored noted men and women from 
all over the world — Henry Ward Beecher and Harriet 
Beecher Stowe, General Grant, Horatio Seymour, 
Jenny Lind, the Prince of Wales, afterwards King 
Edward VH ; Dr. Kane, the Arctic explorer, Ida 
Isaacs Menken, the dancer ; Belle Boyd, Roscoe Conk- 
ling, Governor Sprague and his wife, Kate Chase 
Sprague, Governor Stanford, of California, and, of 
course, Greeley — persons whom we have heard our 
grandparents talk of familiarly, still stands, but now 
the office of the cement trust. The click of the type- 
writers comes through the open windows, where once 
reverberated the voices of eager and enthusiastic tour- 
ists. The elecampane weed grows rank about the walks 
and gardens, the iron fences are awry. Howe's Cave is 
no more; it has joined the long procession of defunct 
natural wonders. The Palisades, along the Hudson 
River in New York came near going the same way ; 
so did the giant trees in California, and here in Penn- 
sylvania we all know w^hat the stone men have done 



96 



PENN'S GRANiDEST CAVE5RN 



to Jack's Narrows, on the Juniata River, and to Mount 
Penn, in the environs of Reading. John D. Mishler, 
Reading's first citizen, loves to tell how, when he was 
showing a delegation of distinguished Japanese the 
wonders of the Berks County metropolis, Baron Ito 
remarked, "How marvelous are you Americans; I 
perceive that you are blasting away that vast moun- 
tain because, doubtless, it obscures your view to the 
east". Some one in a sotto voice whispered, "No; it's 
only local quarrymen getting out ballast and building 
stone". And all this goes to show that caves and all 
natural wonders should be taken over by the govern- 
ment, just as it takes railroads, steamboats and wheat, 
and with the natural wonders would insure the per- 
manency of sights that are a joy and education to 
generations unborn. But as this millenium has not 
arrived and is a long w^ays off, take straight advice 
and see your caves now, as most of them are in lime- 
stone countries and already viewed with jealous eyes 
by the corporate interests. 




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